HB 


,    mt^Sff^^EMf^s-         "-firaSfSi 


ED'S  BOOK  SHOP 

Books,  Magazines,  Stationery 
Novelties  and  Greeting  2 

1808  PACfRC  AVENUE 
VENICE, 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


HOW  BERT  LARKIN  SAVED  HIS  FATHER'S 
RANCH  IN  THE  ISLAND  OF  PORTO  RICO. 


BY  WILLIAM  P.  CHIPMAN, 

Author  of  "Roy  Gilbert's  Search,"  "Budd  Boyd's  Triumph, 
"The  Young  Minuteman,"  etc.,  etc. 


With  Five  Page  Illustrations  by  J.  Watson  Davis. 


NEW  YORK: 
A.  L.  BTJRT,  PUBLISHER. 


GALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


Copyright,  1900,  by  A.  L.  BURT.    " 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 
BY  WILLIAM  P.  CHIPM-AN. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE 

I.  The  Injured  Sailor 1 

II.  Bert  Loses  his  Place 9 

III.  A  Small  Fortune 16 

IV.  Aunt  Mary's  Confession 25 

V.  The  Great  Anvil  Plantation 32 

VI.  The  Captain's  Dream 37 

VII.  JPBrave  Act 42 

VIII.  A  Contemptible  Trick 49 

IX.  Mr.  Barnes  has  a  Visitor 55 

X.  A  Midnight  Alarm 62 

XI.  Bert's  Two  Presents 68 

XII.  Outwitted 77 

XIII.  Alone  on  the  Sea 85 

XIV.  The  Island  Prison 93 

XV.  The  Sponge-Gatherers 102 

XVI.  Startling  News Ill 

XVII.  The  Bombardment  of  San  Juan 118 

XVIII.  A  New  Friend 128 

XIX.  At  El  Yunque  Ranch 136 

XX.  A  Diabolical  Plot 147 

XXI.  What  Bert  Overheard 155 

XXII.  A  Bold  Move 167 

XXIII.  An  Unsuccessful  Raid 179 

XXIV.  Under  the  Flag 189 

XXV.  Back  at  the  Ranch 198 

XXVI.  Father  and  Son 206 

XXVII.  Major  Greene's  Proposal 218 

XXVni.  Aunt  Mary's  Surprise 229 


2126288 


A  YANKEE   LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    INJURED    SAILOR. 

IT  was  Saturday,  May  15th,  1897.  At  Thomp- 
son's store,  the  largest  grocery  in  Montvilie,  every 
one,  from  the  proprietor  himself  to  Bert  Larkin,  the 
delivery  clerk,  was  as  busy  as  he  could  be. 

The  "latter,  a  bright  and  active  lad  of  about  six- 
teen years,  had  just  packed  the  last  basket  of  gro- 
ceries upon  the  delivery  wagon,  and  was  preparing 
to  mount  the  seat,  when  his  employer  called  out : 

"  All  ready  for  the  south  route,  Bert  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  clerk  answered  respectfully,  and 
waited  for  Mr.  Thompson's  next  word. 

"  "Well,  hurry  it  up  as  fast  as  you  can !  Barker 
has  gone  over  to  Flanders  with  the  other  wagon, 
and  you  will  have  to  make  the  north  trip  to-day." 

This  was  so  common  an  occurrence  the  lad  thought 
nothing  of  it.  Thompson  had  a  regular  habit  of 
crowding  double  work  upon  his  men,  so  he  only 
answered : 

"  All  right,  sir ;  I'll  be  back  in  two  hours,  or 
thereabouts,''  and  then  he  jumped  into  the  vehicle 
and  drove  rapidly  away. 

Here  and  there  through  the  streets  in  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  thriving  town  he  went.  Not  a 


2  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

moment  was  lost,  and  in  about  an  hour  he  reached 
the  outskirts  of  the  village. 

Stopping  before  a  small  cottage,  almost  hid  under 
its  load  of  vines,  he  picked  out  two  or  three  parcels 
from  one  of  the  baskets,  and,  with  them  in  his  arms, 
ran  up  the  path  to  the  side  door. 

"  Here  you  are,  Aunt  Mary,"  he  said  to  a  woman 
busy  at  the  kitchen  stove.  "  I'll  lay  these  things 
on  the  step,  for  I'm  in  an  awful  hurry.  I've  got  to 
take  Barker's  route  to  day,  so  you  needn't  expect 
me  home  to  dinner.  A  bite  of  crackers  and  cheese 
will  have  to  do  me  until  supper-time.  Good-by  ! " 
and  he  hastened  back  to  the  street. 

"  Xo ;  stop  as  you  come  back  along,  and  I'll  have 
a  lunch  put  up  for  you,"  his  aunt  replied,  stepping 
to  the  doorway  and  looking  out  at  the  retreating 
lad. 

He  was  driving  off  before  she  had  done  speaking, 
and  only  shouted  back  : 

"  Very  well !  " 

As  the  horse  jogged  along  down  the  turnpike  into 
the  country,  Bert  reached  back  into  the  wagon  and 
overhauled  his  baskets. 

"  I  wish  I  didn't  have  to  go  up  to  Bailey's  to-day," 
he  soliloquized.  "  I  forgot  that  when  I  told  the 
boss  I'd  be  back  in  two  hours.  It  means  a  half-hour 
of  extra  time  up  Sugar  Loaf  hill  and  back,  and  I'm 
afraid  I  can't  keep  my  promise.  But  it  can't  be 
helped  now.  Go  on  !  " 

The  last  two  words  were  spoken  to  his  horse,  and 
the  faithful  creature  quickened  its  pace  as  though 
it  understood  the  haste  of  its  driver. 

Four  or  five  stops  were  made  in  the  next  mile, 
the  last  one  being  at  a  house  well  off  the  main  road. 
This  took  extra  time,  and  when  Bert  returned  to 
the  turnpike  he  glanced  at  his  watch, 

"  Quarter  to  ten !  "  he  exclaimed  in  surprise.  u  I 
must  reach  Bailey's  in  the  next  fifteen  minutes,  or  I 


THE  INJURED  SAILOR.  3 

•won't  get  back  to  the  store  anywhere  near  the  time 
I  calculated  on." 

He  took  up  his  whip  and  touched  the  horse 
lightly  on  its  flank.  This  was  such  an  unusual  pro- 
ceeding, however,  the  animal  started  down  the  road 
at  a  rattling  pace. 

The  highway  was  now  a  gradual  decline  into  a 
narrow  valley,  through  which  a  small  stream  coursed. 
An  arched  bridge,  built  of  heavy  stone,  and  having 
huge  stone  posts  at  each  end  to  support  the  iron  ran 
along  its  side,  spanned  this  brook. 

Beyond  the  brook  the  road  forked,—  the  left  fork 
gradually  winding  away  among  the  hills  towards  a 
large  lake  into  which  the  stream  emptied  ;  the  right 
fork  turning  sharply,  and  beginning  at  once  the 
long  steep  ascent  of  Sugar  Loaf  hill. 

It  was  Bert's  intention  not  to  slacken  the  speed 
of  his  mettled  steed  until  he  reached  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  But  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  As  he  came 
upon  the  bridge  two  boys  about  his  own  age  (whom 
he  immediately  recognized  as  Sam  Thompson,  the 
groceryman's  son  and  Bill  Ecclestone,  his  insepa- 
rable crony,)  stood  on  the  south  end,  brandishing 
their  fishpoles  in  their  hands. 

"  Stop !  Stop,  Bert !  "  they  cried  in  chorus.  "  Give 
us  a  ride !  Take  us  over  to  Lake  Hammersly  !  " 

"  Can't  do  it,  boys,  no  way,"  Bert  responded,  pull- 
ing up  his  horse.  "  I'm  going  the  other  way,  over 
Sugar  Loaf,  and  have  got  to  hurry  too.  Barker  is 
over  at  Flanders,  and  I  have  his  route  to  day." 

"  Pshaw  !  you  can  drive  fast,  and  it  won't  take  a 
half-hour  of  your  time.  You've  got  to  do  it.  Jump 
in,  Bill." 

It  was  Sam  Thompson  who  spoke,  and  he  hastened 
towards  the  left  side  of  the  wagon,  while  his  friend 
followed,  going,  however,  to  the  right. 

"  Here  take  our  poles,  while  we  get  in,"  the  mer- 
chant's son  now  commanded. 


4  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Bert  had  already  formed  his  plan  to  outwit  the 
lads.  Seeming  to  acquiesce  in  their  scheme,  how- 
ever, he  took  Ecclestone's  pole  first,  saying : 

"  Wait  a  moment  before  you  get  in,  Bill,  I  want 
to  find  a  place  for  tbe  poles." 

He  then  took  Sam's  rod,  and  held  the  two  for  an 
instant,  as  though  trying  to  adjust  them  tip  to  tip. 
Then,  like  a  flash,  he  tossed  both  over  the  nearest 
railing  into  the  brook,  shouting  at  the  same  time  to 
his  horse : 

"  Go  on.  Prince  !  " 

The  animal  started  forward  with  a  jump;  the 
turn  to  the  right  was  safely  made,  and  the  hill 
reached  before  the  baffled  boys  had  taken  in  the 
situation  ;  and  by  the  time  they  had  recovered  their 
fishing  tnckle  the  wagon  was  too  far  away  to  make 
it  worth  their  while  to  pursue  it. 

Looking  back  the  young  clerk  smiled  to  see  the 
fists  of  the  duped  lads  shaken  furiously  at  him  : 

"  We'll  pay  you  for  this !  "  they  shouted. 

"  All  right !  to-morrow  ;  next  week  ;  any  time, 
principal  and  interest,"  he  called  back,  little  realizing 
how  soon  they  were  to  do  it,  and  in  a  way  very 
uncomfortable  to  himself. 

Slowing  the  galloping  animal  down  to  a  walk, 
Bert  glanced  at  his  watch  for  the  second  time. 

"  Ten  minutes  coming  here,"  he  said  ;  "  allow  ten 
minutes  for  going  up  the  hill,  and  five  more  to  the 
house,  and  I  shall  be  only  a  few  minutes  later  at 
Bailey's  than  I  thought.  Good!  I  may  as  well 
take  this  part  of  my  journey  easy." 

Stretching  out  on  the  wagon-seat  in  as  comfort- 
able a  position  as  possible,  he  summoned  up  all  his 
patience,  for  what  he  knew  from  previous  experience 
would  be  a  hard  climb. 

Five  minutes,  eight  minutes,  passed.  The  top  of 
the  hill  was  in  sight.  The  horse  realized  it,  and 
quickened  its  step.  Bert,  however,  was  too  com- 


Bert  placed  his  arm  under  the  man  and  with  a  great  effort 
lifted  him  out  of  the  brook. — Page  5.  Yankee  Lad's  Pluck. 


THE  INJURED  SAILOR.  5 

fortable  to  move  just  yet,  and  failed  to  notice  the 
bicyclist  who,  the  next  instant,  came  over  the  brow 
of  the  hill.  But  the  wheelman  saw  him,  and  imme- 
diately shouted  out : 

"  Port  there  !  Port  there  with  your  craft,  young- 
ster, or  I  shall  run  you  down  !  " 

Startled  by  the  cry  the  lad  leaped  to  his  feet,  saw 
his  danger,  and,  gripping  his  reins  firmly,  drew  the 
horse  to  the  left  just  in  time.  By  him  the  wheel 
sped,  its  rider,  whose  garb,  as  well  as  his  language, 
proclaimed  him  a  sailor,  evidently  enjoying  his  ride 
with  great  glee,  and  having  no  thought  ot  the  risk 
he  was  running. 

Stopping  his  horse,  Bert  leaped  to  the  ground, 
and  looked  after  the  flying  man.  But  he  was  al- 
ready too  far  down  the  hill  for  the  boy  to  have  more 
than  the  merest  glimpse  of  him. 

"  He  can  never  make  that  turn  at  the  bridge  in 
safety  ! "  the  lad  cried,  a  great  terror  taking  posses- 
sion of  his  heart.  "  Likely  as  not  I  shall  find  him 
dead  there  when  I  go  back." 

He  jumped  into  his  wagon,  drove  rapidly  on  to 
Mr.  Bailey's,  delivered  his  goods,  and  started  on  his 
return. 

At  as  rapid  a  gait  as  he  dared  he  went  down  the 
long  hill.  When  near  its  foot  he  saw  that  apparently 
his  worst  fears  were  realized.  In  the  middle  of  the 
bridge  lay  the  bicycle — a  complete  wreck ;  while 
over  the  rail  in  the  shallow  water  lay  the  sailor,  his 
white  face  upturned  to  the  sun,  his  eyes  closed, 
his  form  motionless — to  all  appearances  he  was 
dead. 

Hitching  his  horse  a  short  distance  from  the 
bridge,  Bert  hastened  to  the  side  of  the  unconscious 
man.  Placing  his  arms  under  him,  he  with  a  great 
effort  lifted  him  out  of  the  brook.  As  he  did  so  the 
poor  fellow  groaned. 

"  Oh !  he  isn't  dead,"  the  boy  cried  in  great  relief. 


6  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Then  he  dipped  up  some  water  from  the  stream  with 
his  hands,  and  dashed  it  into  the  pallid  face. 

First  there  was  a  faint  twitching  of  the  eyelids  ; 
then  the  eyes  opened ;  finally  the  lips  moved. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  What's  happened  ? "  a  faint  voice 
asked. 

"  Here  by  the  brook.  You  fell  from  your  wheel," 
Bert  answered.  "  Are  you  much  hurt,  sir?" 

"  1  remember ;  you  are  the  boy  I  passed  on  the 
hill ;  then  I  lost  control  of  my  craft,  and  ran  into 
tbe  bridge,"  the  man  answered,  trying  to  raise  him- 
self, but  falling  back  with  a  groan. 

"  I  can't  get  up,  I'm  in  terrible  pain.  What  shall 
I  do  ?  "  he  continued  between  his  moans. 

"  I  have  my  horse  and  wagon  here  ;  but  I  don't 
believe  I  can  lift  you  into  it  alone,"  Bert  replied. 
"  Can  you  wait  until  I  go  for  help  ? " 

"  I  must,  3Toungster,  but  be  quick  about  it,"  the 
sailor  answered  Avith  set  teeth. 

The  lad  thought  a  moment.  The  nearest  house 
was  that  in  the  lane  way,  towards  the  village,  where 
a  half-hour  before  he  had  delivered  goods.  But  he 
now  recollected  that  the  farmer  and  his  men  were 
at  work  in  the  field  next  to  the  turnpike.  If  they 
were  still  there  he  could  secure  their  help  in  ten 
minutes. 

To  think  was  to  act.  Tossing  the  wrecked  bicycle 
off  the  bridge,  he  unhitched  his  horse,  and  drove 
rapidly  up  the  road.  As  soon  as  he  was  in  sight  of 
the  working  men,  he  called  out  loudly : 

"Help!  help!     Quick!     This  way!" 

The  men  heard  him ;  saw  the  galloping  horse ; 
and  hurried  to  meet  him. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  they  asked  as  he  drew  in  his  pant- 
ing beast. 

In  a  few  words  he  told  of  his  discovery,  and  Mr. 
Martin,  the  farmer,  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"  Here,  John,"  he  said  to  one  of  his  men,  "  you  go 


THE  INJURED  SAILOR.  7 

down  to  the  bridge  and  stay  with  the  injured  man. 
Tell  him  we'll  be  there  shortly." 

To  Bert  he  added  :  "  You  must  go  to  the  house 
with  me  for  a  mattress.  Quick !  "  and  with  the  last 
word  he  jumped  up  beside  the  boy. 

"  We  shall  not  need  the  rest  of  you,"  he  called  to 
his  other  workmen  ;  "  go  on  with  your  planting." 

Once  at  the  house  he  rapidly  made  his  arrange- 
ments for  moving  the  sailor. 

"  Toss  out  those  baskets,  Bert,  while  1  get  the 
bed,"  he  directed,  hurrying  into  the  house. 

In  a  minute  he  reappeared  bringing  a  narrow 
mattress  that  just  filled  the  wagon  body.  A  girl 
followed  him  with  two  pillows  and  a  blanket. 

"  We  are  ready,"  he  announced,  springing  into  the 
vehicle. 

Bert  needed  no  other  word,  and  drove  furiously 
down  the  lane.  It  could  not  have  been  over  ten 
minutes  from  the  time  he  first  left  the  bridge  before 
he  was  back  there  again. 

Tenderly  the  unfortunate  man  was  raised,  and 
laid  upon  the  bed.  A  pillow  was  placed  under  his 
head,  and  the  blanket  thrown  over  him.  Then  Mr. 
Martin  sat  down  beside  the  sufferer,  while  John  and 
Bert  mounted  the  wagon  seat. 

"  Where  shall  I  go  ?  To  your  house,  Mr.  Martin  ? " 
the  boy  asked. 

"  No,  I  guess  not,"  the  farmer  said,  hesitatingly. 

"  Look  here,  Captain,"  the  sailor  suddenly  put  in. 
"  You  needn't  be  afraid  to  take  me  there.  I'm  re- 
spectable, and  have  the  rocks  to  pay  all  bills." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  Mr.  Martin  hastened  to  say, 
• "  I  was  not  thinking  of  that  at  all,  but  of  your  com- 
fort. My  wife  is  an  invalid,  as  the  lad  here  knows, 
and  I  have  only  a  young  girl  as  housekeeper.  There 
are  three  hired  men,  myself,  wife,  and  four  small 
children — nine  in  all— as  many  as  one  woman  can 
well  care  for.  What  you  want  is  to  go  where  you 


8  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

can  have  it  quiet,  and  get  the  best  of  care,  and  be 
near  a  physician.  I  have  it,  Bert ;  why  not  take 
him  to  your  aunt's  ?  It  is  in  the  village,  near  the 
doctor,  and  there  isn't  a  better  nurse  in  all  JVIont- 
ville." 

"  Just  as  you  think  best,  Mr.  Martin,"  the  boy 
replied,  and  so  drove  slowly  and  carefully  on  to  his 
own  home.  But  he  had  no  idea  this  incident  of  the 
morning  was  to  change  his  entire  future. 


BERT  LOSES  HIS  PLACE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BERT    LOSES    HIS    PLACE. 

IT  took  a  full  half  hour,  at  the  slow  pace  they  were 
obliged  to  travel,  to  reach  the  vine-covered  cottage. 
But  when  once  there  they  had  no  doubt  as  to  the 
warmth  of  their  welcome. 

As  soon  as  Bert's  aunt  was  told  of  the  poor  man's 
injury,  she  said  : 

"  Why,  of  course,  this  is  the  place  to  bring  him  ! 
If  I  can't  nurse  him  back  to  health,  no  one  can  ; 
and  rav  own  room  and  bed  are  readv  this  minute  for 
him." 

She  bustled  about  while  the  men  brought  the 
sailor  in,  throwing  open  a  blind  for  more  light, 
bringing  extra  pillows  for  the  sufferer's  head,  and 
placing  on  the  nearest  table  a  bottle  of  camphor  and 
other  restoratives  in  case  the  man  should  faint. 

Meantime  Bert  had  driven  on  for  the  nearest 
doctor,  and  by  the  time  the  unfortunate  fellow  was 
removed  from  the  narrow  mattress  (on  which  he  had 
been  brought)  to  the  ampler  and  softer  bed,  Bert 
had  returned  with  the  surgeon. 

Lingering  only  long  enough  to  learn  that  three 
ribs  and  a  leg  of  the  stranger  were  broken,  the 
lad  took  Mr.  Martin  and  John  into  his  wagon  and 
drove  off  to  the  farm  for  his  baskets. 

As  he  came  out  of  the  laneway,  on  his  return  to 
the  village,  he  overtook  Ned  Loomis,  a  lad  a  year 
older  than  himself,  but  one  of  his  particular  friends. 

Young  Loomis   had  evidently   been  on  a  tramp 


10  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

through  the  neighboring  woods,  and  no\v,  with  his 
rifle  over  his  shoulder,  was  returning  home. 

"  Give  me  a  ride,  Bert,"  he  cried,  as  soon  as  he 
caught  sight  of  the  wagon. 

"  Certainly,  Ned  ;  jump  in,"  was  Bert's  hearty  re- 
joinder, and  slowing  up  the  horse,  he  waited  for  his 
comrade  to  mount  the  seat  beside  him.  Then  he 
drove  rapidly  on  to  the  store. 

The  town  clock  on  the  adjacent  church  steeple 
was  striking  twelve  when  he  finally  reached  the 
grocery ;  and  the  greeting  he  immediately  met  with 
was  certainly  a  disconcerting  one.  For  the  first 
time  he  began  to  fear  his  long  delay  might  work 
disastrously  to  himself. 

"  Do  you  call  this  two  hours,  you  young  rascal  ? " 
angrily  demanded  his  employer,  stepping  out  upon 
the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  building.  "  It  is  over 
four,  if  it's  a  minute,  and  your  groceries  have  been 
waiting  for  you  more  than  half  that  time !  What 
in  the  world  have  you  been  up  to  anyway?  " 

Then  the  eye  of  the  enraged  merchant  fell  on 
young  Loomis,  who  had  just  alighted  from  the 
wagon,  and  he  went  on  even  more  furiously  : 

"  Oh !  ho !  that  has  been  your  game,  has  it  ? 
Dill-dallying  along  the  road  with  a  shot  gun  !  "Well, 
I'll  have  you  understand  I  have  no  place  for 
that  kind  of  a  clerk.  Go  to  the  cashier,  get  your 
pay,  and  get  out  of  my  sight  before  I  thrash  you." 

''  But  I  haven't  been  stopping  along  the  way  to 
fire  any  gun,"  protested  Bert,  now  thoroughly 
alarmed  lest  he  should  lose  a  place  that  he  could  ill- 
afford  to  give  up.  I  only  picked  up  Xed  a  few 
minutes  ago  as  I  was  returning  to  the  village.  He 
will  tell  you  so  if  you  only  ask  him.  The  reason 
for  my  long  delay  was -" 

"  Not  another  word  out  of  you,  you  young  repro- 
bate," interrupted  Mr.  Thompson,  his  anger  having 
now  reached  a  white  heat.  "  I've  no  time  to  hear 


BERT  LOSES  HIS  PLACE.  H 

any  trumped-up  stories.  Get  out  of  that  wagon,  get 
your  money  and  leave  at  once,  before  I  take  that 
horsewhip  to  you  for  your  impudence." 

Bert  leaped  from  the  wagon,  his  eyes  flashing  with 
indignation. 

"  This  is  unjust,  Mr.  Thompson,"  he  said,  "  and 
you'll  be  sorry  for  it.  I  found  a  man  injured  by  the 
roadside,  and  stopped  long  enough  to  bring  him  to 
town.  Mr.  Martin  or  Dr.  Russell  will  tell  you  so. 
That  is  why  I  am  so  late." 

"  Well,  what  if  you  did  ?  My  wagon  isn't  an  am- 
bulance for  tramps,"  answered  the  merchant  scorn- 
fully. "  I  don't  want  another  word  with  you  ;  get 
your  money  and  go." 

Without  another  word  the  lad  went  to  the  cash- 
ier's desk,  drew  the  four  dollars  and  fifty-eight  cents 
that  was  due  him  for  five  and  a  half  days'  work, 
and  left  the  store. 

His  first  thought  were  to  go  directly  home,  but 
before  he  reached  the  nearest  corner  he  changed  his 
mind.  He  would  not  let  his  aunt  know  of  his  dis- 
missal until  he  had  made  some  effort  to  secure 
another  situation. 

His  wages  were  all  they  had  to  depend  upon.  The 
sick  man  was  at  the  house — a  burden  upon  them  for 
some  weeks.  Nothing  could  be  more  unfortunate 
and  discouraging  than  this  discharge  at  just  this 
time.  There  was  no  need  to  trouble  his  aunt  with 
it,  however,  until  he  knew  for  certain  that  he  could 
not  obtain  work. 

All  that  afternoon,  therefore,  he  went  from  place 
to  place,  wherever  he  thought  they  might  need  a 
boy's  service,  asking  for  employment,  but  finding 
none. 

Somewhat  discouraged,  but  determined  as  yet 
not  to  worry  his  aunt  with  the  misfortune  which, 
from  no  fault  of  his  own,  had  befallen  him,  he 
went  to  the  house  for  his  supper. 


12  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

He  found  his  aunt  sitting  in  a  low  rocker  just 
outside  of  her  bedroom  door,  and  was  told  in  reply 
to  his  anxious  inquiry  that  the  sailor  was  sleeping 
quietly,  and  would  doubtless  recover  from  his  in- 
juries. 

"  His  name  is  Jack  Barnes,  and  he  belongs  over 
at  Goodport,"  his  aunt  explained  in  a  low  tone,  as 
she  followed  the  boy  out  into  the  kitchen  to  give 
him  his  supper. 

"  It  seems  he  recently  landed  in  Boston,  and  then 
visited  his  native  place,  where  he  had  not  been  for 
years.  Seeing  some  old  friend  there  riding  a  bicycle 
he  took  a  notion  to  ride  one  too,  and,  with  a  sailor's 
recklessness,  started  off  for  a  long  journey  over  an 
unknown  road  the  moment  he  regarded  himself  able 
to  manage  the  wheel. 

"  His  coast  down  Sugar  Loaf  hill  was  another  ex- 
hibition of  his  recklessness,  and  ended  in  his  terrible 
accident.  Attempting  to  turn  on  to  the  bridge  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  he  struck  the  stone  post  on  the 
right,  throwing  him  first  against  the  iron  railing, 
and  then  over  into  the  brook  itself.  The  first  fall, 
the  doctor  sa}Ts,  broke  his  ribs  ;  and  the  second,  his 
limb.  A  pretty  severe  punishment  for  his  foolhardi- 
ness." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  admitted  Bert.  "  Anyway, 
I  don't  want  to  try  his  trip  down  the  hill,  and  I 
don't  believe  he  ever  will  again.  It's  a  wonder  it 
didn't  kill  him.  I  really  thought  he  was  dead  when 
I  first  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  white  face  and  mo- 
tionless form.  I  can  see  him  now,"  and  the  boy 
shuddered  as  he  recalled  the  sickening  sight. 

On  finishing  his  supper  he  asked  his  aunt  if  there 
was  anything  he  could  do  for  her. 

"  Nothing,"  she  said  ;  "  Mr-  Hunt  has  offered  to 
come  in  and  watch  with  the  sick  man  to-night,  and 
you'll  be  at  home  to-morrow,  so  we  shall  get  along 
nicely," 


BERT  LOSES  HIS  PLACE.  13 

"Very  well,"  he  responded,  taking  his  hat  and 
leaving  'the  house  as  though  going  to  the  store. 

He  spent  the  evening,  as  he  had  the  afternoon, 
hunting  for  work,  but  was  still  unsuccessful.  At 
about  the  usual  hour  for  home-coming  on  Saturday 
evenings,  he  came  in  for  the  night. 

Mr.  Hunt,  their  nearest  neighbor,  was  already 
installed  in  the  bedroom,  and  his  aunt  had  retired. 
He,  therefore,  stopped  only  long  enough  to  ascertain 
that  the  injured  man  was  resting  quietly,  then  he 
too  went  to  bed. 

But  he  was  up  early  the  next  morning,  and 
promptly  relieved  the  watcher  from  his  long  vigil. 
Mr.  Barnes  was  awake,  and  greeted  the  lad  with  a 
hearty  good  morning.  He  made  no  further  attempt 
at  conversation,  however,  until  they  were  alone. 
Then  he  asked : 

"  In  whose  house  am  I,  youngster?" 

"  My  aunt's,  Miss  Mary  "Wheeler's,"  the  lad  an- 
swered. 

"  Why,  she  is  the  very  woman  I  was  coming  over 
here  to  see,"  the  man  ejaculated. 

Then,  ignoring  Bert's  surprised  look,  he  continued : 

"  And  who  are  you  ? " 

"  Bert  Larkin,  her  nephew." 

The  sailor  actually  raised  himself  upon  one  elbow 
and  gazed  curiously  at  the  boy. 

"  Bert  Larkin,"  he  repeated.  "  Any  relative  of 
Captain  Albert  Larkin,  who  married  Miss  Wheeler's 
younger  sister,  Annie  ? " 

"  He  was  my  father,"  the  lad  replied,  "  though  I 
never  saw  him." 

"  Bless  ye,  ye  didn't  die  when  a  little  chap  now, 
did  ye?  How  tickled  the  captain  will  be  when  I 
tell  him  that,"  and  the  man  laughed  in  evident 
pleasure. 

"  Why,  sir,  do  you  know  my  father?  Is  he  liv- 
ing ?  Where  is  he  ?  We've  long  thought  him  dead," 


14  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

were  the  boy's  rapid  questions ;  and  his  tones  told 
of  the  amazement  he  was  in. 

"The  captain  thought  you  were  dead,  and  you 
thought  the  captain  was  dead.  What  a  muss  now 
that  was,  to  be  sure  !  Well,  thank  God,  Jack  Barnes 
can  straighten  it  out  middling  quick. 

"  Is  your  father  alive,  lad  ?  Of  course  he  is,  or 
was  less  than  a  month  ago  when  1  left  him.  And 
wasn't  his  last  word  to  me :  '  Don't  forget,  Jack,  to 
go  over  to  Montville,  and  see  if  my  poor  wife's  sis- 
ter, Mary  Wheeler,  is  still  living,  and  how  she  is 
faring  too.  A  word  from  the  old  borne  will  be  wel- 
come, though  I've  never  seen  the  time  for  sixteen 
years  I've  felt  I  could  go  back  there  myself.'  And 
that's  how  I'm  here,  bless  ye  heart." 

"  Father  alive !  Father  sent  }Tou  here !  I  can 
hardly  believe  it,"  cried  the  bewildered  Bert.  "  Tell 
me  all  about  it;  where  he  is;  why  he  hasn't  ever 
come  to  see  me  ;  "  and  there  was  an  intense  plead- 
ing in  every  utterance  of  the  boy. 

Before  the  sailor  could  answer,  a  step  was  heard 
at  the  bedroom  door.  Turning,  the  lad  saw  his 
aunt,  with  a  bowl  of  steaming  broth  in  her  hands. 
Her  first  words  showed,  moreover,  that  she  had 
heard  enough  of  her  nephew's  last  remark  to  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  conversation  that  was  being 
held.  For,  setting  the  dish  down  on  the  stand  at  the 
head  of  the  bed,  she  immediately  exclaimed  : 

"  My  brother-in-law,  Captain  Albert  Larkin,  sent 
you  here !  Pray,  where  is  he,  and  " — hesitatingly 
now — "  and  why  haven't  we  heard  something  from 
him  in  all  these  years,  Mr.  Barnes? " 

The  sailor  gave  her  a  searching  look  as  he  an- 
swered : 

"  He  is  in  Porto  Rico,  ma'am ;  you  only  wait 
until  I'm  a  bit  stronger,  and  we'll  compare  notes. 
I  guess  we  can  then  tell  why  it  is  he  hasn't  ever  sent 
you  any  word." 


BERT  LOSES  HIS  PLACE.  15 

"  Of  course  we'll  wait  until  you  are  stronger,"  she 
said  quickly,  and  with  some  show  of  relief  in  her 
tones.  "  Go,  Bert,  and  eat  your  breakfast.  It's  on 
the  table,  and  I  have  Mr.  Barnes's  breakfast  here." 

Eager  as  Bert  was  to  learn  more  of  the  father  he 
had  never  seen,  and  of  wThom  he  had  heard  but 
little,  he  realized  there  was  wisdom  in  his  aunt's 
decision.  But  his  heart  beat  quickly,  and  his 
thoughts  chased  each  other  in  wildest  confusion,  as 
he  entered  the  kitchen  and  sat  down  to  partake  of 
a  meal  for  which  his  appetite  had  suddenly  vanished. 


16  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A     SMALL     FORTUNE. 

SEVERAL  times  during  that  long  Sunday  Bert  was 
on  the  point  of  telling  his  aunt  of  his  dismissal  from 
the  store,  but  checked  himself  each  time,  thinking : 
"Maybe  to-morrow  I  shall  find  another  job,  and 
there  is  no  need  of  worrying  her  about  it ;  especi- 
ally now  she  has  this  sick  man  to  care  for." 

One  of  his  duties  as  an  employee  of  Mr.  Thomp- 
son had  been  to  care  *for  the  horses.  This  necessi- 
tated early  rising  on  his  part,  and,  in  order  to  keep 
the  fact  that  he  had  lost  his  place  from  his  aunt,  he, 
on  Monday  morning,  got  up  at  his  usual  time.  It 
was,  therefore,  scarcely  five  o'clock  when  he  came 
down-stairs  into  the  little  kitchen. 

Early  as  it  was,  however,  his  aunt  was  there  be- 
fore him,  busily  engaged  in  getting  his  breakfast. 
It  was  soon  ready,  and  while  the  lad  ate,  she  talked 
away  to  him  about  their  unexpected  guest. 

Mr.  Williams,  another  near  neighbor,  who  had 
watched  with  the  sailor  the  previous  night,  had 
just  gone,  and  alluding  to  him,  Miss  Wheeler  said  : 

"  Neighbor  Williams  tells  me  that  Mr.  Barnes  has 
slept  soundly  all  night,  and  that  he  is  quite  sure  we 
shall  not  need  watchers  any  longer.  He  says  if  you 
are  only  willing  to  sleep  on  the  sitting-room  lounge, 
within  call  of  the  sick  man,  that  is  all  that  will  be 
necessary.  I  hate  to  ask  it  of  you,  after  your  day 
of  hard  work  at  the  store,  but  if  you  will  do  it,  I 
can  look  out  for  the  poor  fellow  days,  and  we  need 
trouble  our  neighbors  no  further." 


A  SMALL  FORTUNE.  17 

"  Of  course  I'll  do  that,  or  anything  else  to  help 
you,  Aunt  Mary,"  Bert  replied  quickly,  wondering 
what  she  would  say  if  she  knew  he  was  no  longer 
in  the  store. 

Then,  partly  to  turn  the  conversation  from  what 
he  considered  dangerous  ground,  and  partly  be- 
cause he  believed  it  might  relieve  her  anxiety  as  to 
all  expense  connected  with  her  unexpected  patient, 
he  told  her  what  the  injured  man  had  said  to  Mr. 
Martin  about  his  ability  to  pay  the  costs  connected 
with  the  accident,  adding  : 

"  I  don't  believe  we  shall  lose  anything,  Auntie,  in 
having  him  here." 

"  I'm  not  thinking  of  pay,"  she  responded  quickly. 
"  I  should  give  him  the  best  care  possible  whoever 
he  was.  But  what  he  has  already  said  to  you  shows 
that  he  was  coming  over  to  Montville  on  purpose  to 
look  me  up,  as  a  special  messenger  from  your 
father.  That  makes  our  duty  to  care  for  him  all 
the  stronger ;  and  when  able  he  will  make  his  busi- 
ness known.  But  it  seems  strange,  Bert,  to  think 
of  your  father  as  living,  when  for  so  long  a  time 
we  have  regarded  him  as  dead." 

"  Yes,"  the  boy  assented.  "  I  can't  make  it  seem 
real  to  me  ;  and  there's  another  thing  I  don't  under- 
stand, Aunt  Mary.  Admit  that  father  thought  I 
was  dead — though  I  don't  see  what  reason  he  had 
for  thinking  so — why  has  he  neglected  you  so  long  ? 
Surely  you  had  a  claim  on  him." 

"  Not  a  very  strong  one,  Bert,  I  guess,"  his  aunt 
said,  in  a  constrained  voice.  Then  she  went  on 
hurriedly,  as  though  anxious  to  get  through  with 
what  she  had  to  say. 

"  I  wanted  this  talk  with  you  this  morning,  Bert. 
I've  laid  awake  nearly  all  night  thinking  about  it. 
You  mustn't  blame  your  father  at  all,  child.  I'm  to 
blame  for  his  long  silence.  There  are  some  things 
connected  with  this  affair  I  have  never  told  you — 

2 


18  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

perhaps  never  should  have  told  you  but  for  this 
visit  of  the  sailor. 

"  When  he  gets  ready  to  tell  you  his  story,  how- 
ever, I'll  tell  you  mine  ;  and,  as  he  intimated  yester- 
day, when  we  come  to  compare  notes  we  shall  be 
able  to  explain  your  father's  prolonged  silence.  I 
only  hope  you  won't  hate  me,  Bert.  I  can  stand 
everything  but  that,"  and,  throwing  her  arms  about 
the  boy's  neck,  she  wept  bitterly. 

"  Of  course,  I  am  not  going  to  hate  you,  Aunt 
Mary,"  replied  the  puzzled  lad.  "  Who  'has  cared 
for  me  from  my  birth,  working  and  sacrificing 
every  way  to  feed  and  clothe  and  educate  me  ?  I  owe 
everything  to  you,  and  love  you  better  than  any  one 
else  in  all  the  world,"  and  he  kissed  her  repeatedly. 

His  words  and  caresses  reassured  her,  and  drying 
her  tears,  she  allowed  him  to  finish  his  breakfast. 

Just  as  he  arose  from  the  table,  there  came  a 
knock  at  the  door.  Miss  Wheeler  opened  it,  and 
Ked  Loomis  came  in. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Wheeler,"  he  said,  politely 
removing  his  cap. 

"Hello,  Bert!  This  is  an  early  call,  isn't  it? 
But  I've  come  on  an  errand  for  father.  Saunders, 
one  of  the  teamsters  at  the  mill,  is  sick,  and  pa  says 
you  can  have  his  job,  if  you  want  it." 

"  Why,  he  is  in  the  store,  and  can't  work  for 
your  father!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wheeler,  secretly 
glad  of  it.  She  had  the  foolish  pride  so  common 
with  many,  that  to  be  a  clerk  in  a  store  was  more 
genteel  than  to  be  a  mill-hand. 

At  the  same  moment,  however,  Bert  exclaimed  in 
great  joy : 

"  This  is  due  to  you,  Ned,"  and  he  grasped  his 
friend's  outstretched  hand,  giving  it  a  hearty  shake. 
"  I  know  it  is,  for  I  called  at  the  mill  for  work  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  and  the  overseer  told  me  there 
were  no  vacancies." 


A  SMALL  FORTUNE.  19 

"  "What  do  you  mean,  Bert  ? "  asked  his  aunt, 
bewildered  by  the  lad's  words. 

Sure  of  work,  Bert  now  told  her  of  his  discharge 
from  the  store,  and  the  reason  for  it. 

"  To  think  Thompson  would  do  such  a  thing !  " 
she  cried,  indignantly.  "He  hasn't  a  spark  of 
humanity  about  him,  not  to  mention  common  de- 
cency !  Well,  I  knew  he  was  close  and  stingy,  but 
I  didn't  think  he  was  quite  as  mean  as  this !  " 

"That  is  just  what  father  said,"  put  in  Ned. 
"  You  see,  Miss  Wheeler,"  he  explained,  "  I  heard 
Thompson  threaten  to  dismiss  Bert,  and  waited  long 
enough  to  see  if  it  really  happened.  Then  I  hurried 
home  and  told  father.  He  went  down  street  almost 
immediately  and  saw  Dr.  Russell,  who,  as  you 
know,  attended  the  sailor ;  and  later  he  drove 
out  to  Mr.  Martin's  and  had  a  talk  with  him.  The 
result  was  he  came  home  determined  that  Bert 
should  lose  nothing  by  what  he  called  his  '  humane 
act,' 

"  Last  night,  just  as  I  was  going  to  bed,  he  told 
me  I  was  to  come  down  here  before  six  this  morn- 
ing, and  tell  Bert  he  could  have  Saunders'  place 
until  there  is  something  better  for  him.  I  suspect," 
he  also  added  with  a  grin,  "that,  from  some  things 
mother  says,  father  went  around  to  Thompson's 
before  he  came  home  Saturday  night,  and  told  him 
just  what  he  thought  of  him." 

Mr.  Loomis  was  the  proprietor  of  the  Montville 
Woolen  Mills,  and  employed  nearly  two  hundred 
hands.  As  the  village  was  five  miles  from  the 
nearest  railroad  station  (that  at  Flanders),  all  the 
raw  material  for  the  manufactory  had  to  be  carted 
from  that  depot,  and  the  manufactured  goods  taken 
over  to  it.  This  kept  four  teams  constantly  on  the 
road,  and  the  work  assigned  to  Bert,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  that  of  Saunders',  one  of  the  regular 
teamsters. 


20  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

While  the  lad  naturally  would  have  preferred 
some  other  employment,  he  was  glad  to  secure  this. 
He,  therefore,  now  said  : 

"  I'll  report  at  the  mill  promptly,  Ned,  and  thank 
you  again  for  your  kindness." 

With  a  frank  assertion  that  he  had  done  nothing 
to  be  thanked  for,  young  Loomis  departed.  His 
parting  sentence,  however,  had  evidently  been  saved 
for  that  moment. 

"  Oh  !  I  say,  Bert,  I  was  also  to  tell  you  that  you 
were  to  have  the  same  pay  father  gives  Saunders, 
one  dollar  and  a  half  per  day." 

Perhaps  the  happiest  boy  '.n  the  whole  town  was 
Bert  Larkin,  when,  fifteen  minutes  later,  he  reported 
himseii  at  the  mill  office  as  ready  for  work. 

Mr.  Loomis  was  there ;  and,  looking  the  boy  over 
from  head  to  foot,  as  though  measuring  his  spirit 
and  ability,  he  remarked  : 

"  I  see  you  are  ready  for  your  job,  my  lad." 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  thankful  for  it  too, '  the  boy  replied 
heartily. 

"  I  presume,  though,  there  are  things  you  would 
prefer  to  teaming,"  said  the  manufacturer,  quizzi- 
cally. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  lad  responded  slowly  ;  "  I  suppose 
we  all  have  our  preferences,  but  I'm  not  above  any 
honest  work." 

"  That's  right,   and   I   admire  your   spirit,"  the 

S3ntleman  answered,  decidedly.     "  But  the  fact  is, 
ert,  we  shall  keep  you  at  this  only  a  short  time. 
We  hope  to  find  a  better  berth  for  you. 

"  You  may  go  around  to  the  mill  stables  now," 
he  continued.  "  You  will  find  Brown,  our  oldest 
teamster,  waiting  you  there.  He  has  orders  to  help 
you  in  your  loading  and  unloading,  and  you  are  to 
follow  him  in  your  driving.  One  round  trip  each 
forenoon  and  afternoon  is  what  we  expect  of  you. 
Good  morning." 


A  SMALL  FORTUNE.  21 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Loorais,"  said  the  boy  hast- 
ening off  to  his  work. 

An  hour  later,  perched  high  on  his  load  of  wooden 
cases,  he  followed  Brown  over  the  hills  towards 
Flanders. 

Perhaps  a  half  hour  after  Bert's  departure  from 
the  little  cottage,  Miss  Wheeler  carried  in  the  break- 
fast of  her  patient,  which  he  ate  with  evident  relish. 

"  I  guess,  ma'am,"  he  said,  when  he  was  done, 
"that  that  farmer  was  right  when  he  suggested  I 
had  better  be  stowed  in  here.  You  certainly  know 
how  to  care  for  a  sick  man.  I'm  much  obliged  to 
you,  ma'am.  But  if  I  may  ask,  where's  that  boy, 
the  captain's  son  ?  I  haven't  seen  him  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  No,  sir,  he  went  to  his  work  some  time  ago," 
she  replied. 

"  Where  does  he  work,  ina'am  ?  Some  store,  I 
should  judge  by  his  turnout  ?  "  the  sailor  next  in- 
quired. 

"  He  did  work  at  Thompson's  grocery  —  has 
worked  there  for  about  a  year.  But  he  went  to  a 
new  place  this  morning,"  she  explained. 

"  I'd  have  you  know,  sir,"  she  went  on  with  evi- 
dent pride,  "  he  graduated  from  our  grammar  school 
last  June  at  the  head  of  his  class,  anH  I  wanted  him 
to  go  on  into  the  high  school,  and  perhaps  to  college, 
if  we  could  bring  it  about.  But  he  said,  ;  No.' 
That  I'd  worked  long  enough  for  him,  and  now  he 
was  going  to  care  for  me.  So  he  went  right  down 
to  Thompson's  grocery,  and  hired  out.  He's  a  good 
boy,  sir,  if  there  ever  was  one." 

"  What  wages  did  he  get  there  ? "  Mr.  Barnes 
now  questioned. 

"Five  dollars  a  week,  sir;  but  he  is  to  have  a 
dollar  and  a  half  a  day  at  the  mill  where  he  began 
work  this  morning." 

She  did  not  think  it  necessary  to   explain   any 


22  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

farther  why  Bert  had  changed  the  place  of  his  em- 
ployment. 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  had  to  live  on,  ma'am  ? " 
the  sick  man  asked,  bluntly. 

Though  Miss  Wheeler  regarded  her  guest  as  un- 
necessarily inquisitive  she  replied,  simply, 

"  Except  a  little  I  earn  by  my  sewing.  I  used  to 
go  out  nursing  some,  but  Bert  will  not  allow  that 
now.  You  see  I  own  the  cottage,  and  we  have  some 
fruit,  and  a  garden,  and  the  chickens.  So  we  get 
on  quite  nicely,  sir." 

"  Humph  !  The  captain's  son  working  in  a  store 
for  five  dollars  a  week  !  Gone  to  work  now  at  a  mill 
like  any  common  laborer!  His  wages  all  he  and 
his  aunt  has  to  live  on ! "  ejaculated  the  man. 
"  Ginger  and  pepper !  what  would  the  captain  say 
to  that  ? " 

As  Miss  Wheeler  did  not  feel  any  obligation  rest- 
ing on  her  to  answer  the  question,  she  said  nothing. 
A  moment  later  she  took  up  her  patient's  dishes  and 
went  back  to  her  kitchen. 

While  busy  at  the  sink  the  call-bell  she  had 
placed  on  the  stand  beside  the  invalid  rang  out 
sharply. 

She  hastened  to  the  bedroom. 

"  What  is  it,  sir  ? "  she  inquired. 

"  Does  that  youngster  come  home  to  dinner  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Send  him  in  here  to  me  at  once,  please." 

There  was  a  decisiveness  about  the  words  that 
suggested  he  wished  to  settle  some  important  mat- 
ter ;  but  whatever  it  was  he  did  not  make  known. 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied,  and  returned  to  her  work. 

So  when  Bert,  having  made  his  first  round  trip 
over  to  the  Flanders  station,  came  to  his  dinner,  he 
was  told  that  Mr.  Barnes  wished  to  see  him  at  once. 

Stepping  along  to  the  door  of  the  bedroom,  the 
lad  said,  cheerily  ; 


A  SMALL  FORTUNE.  23 

"  How  are  you  to-day,  Mr.  Barnes  ?  Better,  I 
hope  ?  I  had  counted  on  running  in  for  a  few 
minutes  after  dinner  to  see  you  ;  but  as  aunt  says 
there  is  something  special  you  wish  to  see  me  about, 
I  came  in  at  once.  What  is  it,  sir  ?  " 

"Call  your  aunt,"  the  sailor  replied,  somewhat 
brusquely. 

The  boy  obeyed,  and  when  both  were  in  the  bed- 
room, their  guest  put  his  hand  into  the  bosom  of 
his  shirt,  and  drew  out  a  long  leather  pocketbook. 
Opening  it,  he  took  out  a  slip  of  paper,  and  passed 
it  over  to  Miss  Wheeler,  saying  : 

"  The  captain  sent  that  to  you." 

A  glance  showed  the  astonished  woman  that  it 
was  a  draft  on  a  well  known  banking  firm  in  New 
York  City  for  one  thousand  dollars,  payable  to  her 
order. 

"  The  captain  sent  this  to  me  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  A  thousand  dollars  !  What  shall  I  do  with  it, 
Bert  ?  I  never  had  so  much  money  before  in  all 
my  life,"  and  there  was  real  dismay  in  her  tones. 

"  Oh  !  I  guess  you  will  find  some  way  to  use  it, 
Auntie,"  he  answered,  laughing  happily.  "  I  don't 
wonder  you  are  puzzled  though  ;  it  seems  a  for- 
tune, doesn't  it  ? " 

"  It  is  a  fortune,"  said  his  aunt,  emphatically. 
Then  she  asked  in  quick  concern  :  "  You  are  sure 
the  captain  hasn't  robbed  himself,  Mr.  Barnes  ?  " 

The  sailor  laughed  immoderately.  "  Robbed 
himself !  "  he  cried.  "  Now  that  is  rich,  isn't  it  ? 
I  should  shake  myself  to  pieces,  if  it  didn't  hurt  so. 
Eobbed  himself?  Well,  hardly." 

"  Here,  lad,"  he  now  called  to  Bert,  "  take  this," 
passing  him  the  wallet.  "  There  is  nearly  five  hun- 
dred dollars  in  there ;  take  it,  and  pay  the  expenses 
of  this  ranch  until  I'm  on  my  feet." 

"  There's  another  thing  you  must  do,  sir,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  you  must  quit "  that  mill.  The  captain 


24  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

would  never  forgive  me  for  allowing  you  to  work 
there,  when  he  has  plenty.  So  quit  you  must." 

"  And  look  here,  ma'am,"  he  added  to  Miss 
Wheeler,  u  put  a  girl  into  that  kitchen  to  do  the 
hard  work,  and  find  a  man  to  wait  on  me.  It  isn't 
the  thing  for  either  of  you  to  care  for  old  Jack 
Barnes.  Now  it  isn't,  sure,"  and  the  man  sank  back 
upon  his  pillows  quite  out  of  breath  from  his  long 
speech. 

"  But,  Mr.  Barnes,  isn't  this  your  money  ? "  Bert 
objected,  the  color  rising  to  his  cheeks.  "  If  so,  I 
can't  take  it,  sir." 

"  Of  course  it's  my  money,"  he  broke  in  ;  "  who 
said  it  wasn't  ?  But  bless  you,  the  captain  will 
make  me  good,  ten  to  one,  if  need  be.  Go  ahead 
both  of  you,  and  do  as  I  say,  and  leave  me  alone. 
I'm  tired,"  and  he  shut  his  mouth  with  a  snap  that 
seemed  to  lock  his  jaws,  for  the  present  at  least,  for 
they  could  get  nothing  more  out  of  him. 


AUNT  MARY'S  CONFESSION.  25 


CHAPTER  IY. 

AUNT  MARY'S  CONFESSION. 


IN  the  kitchen  there  was  an  animated  discussion 
between  the  aunt  and  nephew.  It  ended  in  the 
lad's  taking  the  draft,  properly  indorsed,  and  four 
hundred  dollars  of  the  money,  to  the  village  bank, 
where  the  entire  amount  was  deposited  to  Miss 
"Wheeler's  credit. 

As  Bert  came  down  the  bank  steps  he  met  Mr. 
Thompson.  That  gentleman  was  in  any  but  the 
best  frame  of  mind.  Not  only  had  Mr.  Loomis  been 
to  him  and  expressed  in  no  mild  language  his  opin- 
ion of  a  man  who  discharged  a  clerk  for  playing  the 
part  of  the  Good  Samaritan  to  an  unfortunate 
stranger,  but  Dr.  Russell,  and  Judge  Peabody,  and 
several  other  prominent  citizens  of  the  village,  had 
emphatically  denounced  the  merchant's  act  as  an 
outrage,  and  their  denouncements  had  been  faith- 
fully reported  to  the  groceryman  by  the  village 
busybodies.  Even  the  clerks  in  the  store,  with 
whom  Bert  was  a  general  favorite,  had  been  over- 
heard commenting  on  what  they  termed  "  the 
meanest  freak  of  a  dreadfully  mean  boss." 

Nor  was  this  all.  Some  of  the  best  customers  had 
called  at  the  store,  asking  for  their  accounts, 
and  intimating  the^  preferred  to  trade  elsewhere. 
To  lose  the  good  opinion  of  his  neighbors  was  to 
Thompson  a  small  matter  compared  with  losing  a 
few  dollars  in  his  sales.  He  was  almost  ready,  there- 
fore, to  admit  that  possibly  he  had  made  a  mistake 
in  discharging  his  young  clerk. 


26  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

On  the  way  to  the  bank  to  make  a  deposit  he  was 
brooding  over  this  matter,  and,  hard  as  it  was  to  do 
it,  had  concluded  the  best  stroke  of  policy  for  him 
under  the  circumstances  would  be  to  ask  Bert  to 
return  to  his  old  position.  And  just  as  he  came  to 
this  conclusion  he  suddenly  came  face  to  face  with 
the  boy  himself. 

"Hey  there,  Bert,"  he  stammered,  "you  can 
come  back  to  the  store  again,  if  you  wish  to." 

The  lad  mistrusted  what  it  was  that  had  led  to 
this  rather  ungracious  offer  of  his  old  clerkship, 
and  mischievously  decided  to  draw  out  his  late  em- 
ployer, and  see  how  much  he  wanted  him. 

"  At  what  wages,  Mr.  Thompson  ?  "  he  questioned. 

"Why  the  same  as  before,  of  course,"  snapped  tho 
man. 

"  I  can't  think  of  it,"  replied  Bert,  gravely. 

This  was  a  new  aspect  of  the  question  to  the 
merchant,  and  he  paused  a  moment  to  consider  it. 
Finally,  deciding  it  might  be  something  to  his  credit 
to  have  it  said  he  took  his  clerk  back  at  increased 
w^ages,  he  cautiously  inquired : 

What  will  you  come  back  for  then  ?  " 

"  Ten  dollars,"  said  the  boy  coolly  ;  "  you  see  I'm 
getting  nine  at  my  new  job." 

"  Ten  dollars  !  "  exclaimed  the  now  angry  man. 
"  I'll  let  you  and  your  aunt  go  to  the  poorhouse  first." 

"  We  sha'n't  move  there  this  month,  Mr.  Thomp- 
son," Bert  retorted,  with  a  laugh,  as  he  hurried  away. 

When  at  the  mill  he  told  Mr.  Loomis  enough  of 
the  sailor's  story  to  explain  the  reason  for  his  unex- 
pected request, 'and  then  asked  to  be  released  from 
his  position  as  teamster  at  the  close  of  the  day. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  boy,"  the  kind-hearted  man 
replied ;  "  you  may  go  now  if  you  prefer,  and  I  sin- 
cerely congratulate  you  on  your  good  fortune." 

"  I  know  you  mean  it,  Mr.  Loomis,"  said  the  lad, 
"  and  therefore,  thank  you  ;  and  before  I  go  I  want 


AUNT  MARY'S  CONFESSION.  27 

to  assure  you  I  appreciate  the  interest  you  took  in 
me,  and  the  place  you  offered  me,  at  a  time  when  I 
was  in  sore  trouble  and  knew  not  where  I  should 
find  my  next  work.  I  shall  never  forget  it,  sir ; " 
and,  so  after  a  half-day's  service  as  a  mill-employee, 
Bert  left. 

But  the  changes  which  the  sailor  had  proposed  in 
the  working  force  of  the  household  were  never 
carried  out. 

"  I  have  run  that  kitchen  for  more  than  twenty- 
five  years,  and  I  don't  propose  to  give  it  up  to  any 
one  else  while  I'm  able  to  attend  to  it,"  was  Miss 
Wheeler's  invariable  answer  ;  "  and  as  for  having 
another  man  in  this  house  to  wait  on,  I  simply 
won't.  With  nothing  else  for  you  to  do,  Bert,  it  is 
a  pity  if  we  can't  take  care  of  Mr.  Barnes  ourselves. 
It's  all  nonsense  that  we  are  too  good  to  wait  on 
him  ! "  and  she  had  her  way. 

The  next  day  was  one  of  heavy  storm.  The  rain 
poured  in  torrents  ;  and  the  wind  blew  in  unceasing 
gusts.  Compelled  to  keep  the  house  Bert  found 
an  interesting  book,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  read 
aloud  to  his  aunt  and  Mr.  Barnes. 

Then  the  latter  spoke  up  :  "  Put  up  your  book 
for  a  while,  Bert.  Somehow  what  }rou  have  been 
reading  has  se.t  me  to  thinking  of  the  captain.  I'm 
strong  enough  now  to  talk  over  the  whole  matter 
Avith  your  aunt,  and  if  she  is  willing  we'll  compare 
log-books." 

Miss  Wheeler  flushed  a  little  at  his  words,  but 
readily  assented. 

"  If  you  please  then,  ma'am,"  he  began,  "  I'll  have 
you  spin  your  yarn  first,  for  I  suspect  mine  begins 
about  where  yours  ends."' 

"  I  am  anxious  to  tell  my  part  of  the  story,"  an- 
swered she  ;  "•  though  some  of  it  will  not  be  entirely 
to  my  credit. 

"Nineteen  years  ago  Captain  Albert  Larkin  met 


28  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

my  sister  Annie  for  the  first  time.  She  had  gone 
over  to  Gootlport  to  spend  two  weeks  with  a  former 
schoolmate,  and  while  there  made  his  acquaintance. 
It  was  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight  on  their  part,  and 
as  the  captain  was  to  sail  soon  on  a  voyage  to  South 
America,  he  desired  to  be  married  immediately. 

"  I  objected  to  this  for  several  reasons  :  First,  be- 
cause Annie  was  so  young — she  was  only  eighteen — 
ten  years  younger  than  myself — and  seemed  to  me, 
who  had  been  her  sole  guardian  since  mother's 
death,  still  a  child. 

"  Then  the  captain  was  thirty-eight,  old  enough, 
I  thought,  to  be  Annie's  father  rather  than  her  hus- 
band, and  I  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so. 

"  Again,  I  declared  that  the  two  weeks  the  cap- 
tain and  she  had  known  each  other  were  not  a  long 
enrugh  acquaintance  on  which  to  base  a  union  which 
liiust  be  for  life. 

"  Furthermore,  for  I  was  looking  for  every  objec- 
tion possible,  I  found  fault  with  the  captain's  occupa- 
tion, that  would  keep  him  so  much  of  the  time  away 
from  his  wife. 

"  I  see  now  that  an  insane  jealousy  on  my  part  was 
the  real  cause  of  my  obstinacy.  I  was  not  willing 
that  my  sister  should  care  for  another  more  than 
she  did  for  me.  But  at  the  time  I  thought  I  was 
honest  in  the  objection  I  made.  I  ended  by  telling 
Annie  she  could  not  be  married  in  her  old  home 
with  my  consent. 

"  I  was  not  prepared  for  her  quiet  and  dignified 
answer:  'I  am  the  one  to  decide  a  question  which 
concerns  my  future  happiness,  Mary,  and  not  you,' 
she  said.  '  Naturally  I  should  prefer  to  be  married 
here,  but  it  is  not  necessary.  Other  arrangements 
can  be  made.  We  will  have  no  more  words  over 
this  unfortunate  affair.' 

"  She  was  much  in  her  own  room  after  that,  but 
I  was  too  angry  to  try  to  secure  her  confidence. 


AUNT  MARY  S  CONFESSION.  29 

"  A  week  later  the  captain  drove  to  the  door  in  a 
hack.  Annie  came  down  from  her  chamber  dressed 
for  a  journey.  To  the  captain  she  said :  '  My  trunk 
is  ready  in  the  room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.'  To 
me  she  added :  '  We  are  going  from  here  to  the 
minister's,  where  we  shall  be  married.  Then  we 
drive  directly  to  Goodport,  and  I  shall  sail  with  my 
husband  for  Rio  de  Janeiro.  I  hold  no  hard  feelings 
against  you,  Mary.  Until  now  you  have  been  the 
kindest  of  sisters,  and  I  shall  write  vou  often. 
Good-by!' 

"  In  my  angriest  mood  I  had  anticipated  no  such 
radical  step  on  the  part  of  my  usually  gentle  and 
yielding  sister  as  this,  and  I  was  so  struck  dumb  at 
her  announcement,  I  answered  her  not  a  word. 
The  next  moment  she  was  gone. 

"  Many  a  time  during  the  following  months  I  re- 
pented bitterly  of  my  folly,  and  often  upbraided 
myself  for  having  driven  my  sister  from  a  home 
which  was  as  much  hers  as  mine. 

"  Occasionally  a  letter  came  from  her,  always 
breathing  a  spirit  of  love  for  me,  always  telling  of 
her  happiness  with  her  husband.  From  South 
America  the  captain  took  a  freight  for  England,  and 
then  for  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  it  was  over  two 
years  before  they  came  home. 

"  One  spring  day,  however,  unexpectedly  to  my- 
self, they  drove  to  the  door  ;  Annie,  looking  more 
matronly,  but  the  same  dear,  loving  sister,  that  she 
had  always  been  ;  the  captain  dignilied,  yet  friendly, 
if  I  cared  to  be  so.  The  announcement  they  soon 
made  filled  me  with  delight:  Annie  was  to  remain 
with  me,  if  I  were  willing,  while  the  captain  made 
his  next  voyage. 

"  The  next  three  months  were  the  happiest  of  my 
life ;  then  came  its  greatest  sorrow  :  Bert  here  was 
born,  and  his  mother  died. 

"  The  captain  was  too  far  away  to  be  reached  in. 


30  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

time  for  the  funeral,  and  as  the  sole  mourner  I  fol- 
lowed her  to  the  grave.  I  think  now  I  must  have 
been  nearly  crazy  with  my  grief,  for  I  wrote  the 
captain  telling  him  not  of  what  I  counted  his  loss, 
but  mine,  charging  him  with  my  sister's  death,  de- 
claring heartlessly  that  his  child  was  so  weak  and 
puny  it  would  doubtless  be  dead  long  before  he  got 
my  letter,  and  ending  with  the  assertion  that  I  never 
wished  to  see  his  face  again. 

"  I  wonder  now  that  he  ever  replied  to  my  letter, 
but  he  did ;  and  how  kindly  he  wrote  you  shall 
yourselves  judge,  for  I  have  always  kept  his  an- 
swer." 

She  arose,  went  to  an  old  bureau  in  the  corner  of 
the  bedroom,  and  from  its  drawer  brought  the 
manuscript. 

"  Read  it,  Bert,"  she  said,  thrusting  it  into  the 
boy's  hand. 

He  glanced  at  the  sheet,  and  saw  his  father's 
handwriting  for  the  first  time.  It  had  a  fascination 
for  him,  and  for  a  while  he  looked  it.  over.  Then 
with  a  husky  voice  he  read  : 

"  BARCELONA,  SPAIN. 
"  Oct  10,  1881. 
"  DEAR  SISTER  MARY  : 

"  Your  letter  is  before  me,  and  I  am  asking  myself 
can  its  contents  be  true  ?  Am  I  wifeless  ?  Child- 
less? From  this  hour  must  I  go  alone  through  life, 
without  Annie's  guiding  hand  and  loving  heart? 
God  pity  me ! 

"  I  will  not  be  selfish  in  my  grief.  I  recognize  how 
+he  deep  sense  of  your  own  loss  has  led  you  to 
write  as  you  would  not  have  written  under  other 
circumstances.  May  the  good  Lord  help  you  also. 

"  I  enclose  a  draft  for  five  hundred  dollars.  Will 
you  use  it  to  pay  all  expenses  connected  with 
Annie's  illness,  death  and  burial  ?  Also  place  a 
suitable  stone  at  her  grave,  and  at  the  grave  of  our 


AUNT  MARY'S  CONFESSION.  31 

child,  if  he  be  dead.     The  remainder,  if  any,   use 
for  yourself. 

"  My  address  will  remain  the  same  for  some  months, 
and  I  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you  again  before 
long,  especially  if  my  boy  lives  (a  hope  I  hardly 
dare  cherish),  for  I  shall  then  return  to  my  native 
land.  Otherwise  you  are  likely  to  have  your  wish, 
and  never  see  my  face  again. 

"  Your  brother, 

"  ALBERT  LAKKIN." 

As  Bert  ceased  his  reading  his  aunt  continued  : 

"  When  that  letter  reached  me,  baby  Bert,  in- 
stead of  dying,  had  grown  into  a  fat,  healthy  child. 
I  had  become  greatly  attached  to  him,  and  feared, 
if  the  captain  learned  he  was  alive,  he  would  come 
and  take  him  from  me.  Under  that  fear  I  com- 
mitted the  great  wrong  of  my  life.  /  never  wrote 
the  captain.  From  that  fact  alone  he  must  have 
believed,  as  I  th-.n  hoped  he  would,  that  his  child 
was  dead." 

For  some  time  her  sobs  alone  broke  the  stillness ; 
then  Bert  went  over  to  her  side  and  put  his  arms 
about  her. 

"  Don't,  Aunt  Mary,"  he  pleaded ;  "  you  meant 
all  right ;  your  error  came  through  your  great  love 
for  me.  I  forgive  it,  and  I  believe  father  will.  We 
can  be  happy  yet.  But  let  us  hear  Mr.  Barnes's 
story." 

With  a  great  effort  Miss  Wheeler  regained  con- 
trol of  herself,  and  then  she  and  the  lad  waited  for 
the  sailor  to  speak. 


32  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CH  AFTER  Y. 

THE   GREAT  ANVIL   PLANTATION. 

THE  sailor  brushed  away  a  suspicious  moisture 
from  bis  o\vn  eyes,  cleared  bis  tbroat  two  or  three 
times,  as  though  some  obstacle  was  choking  him, 
then  be  said : 

"  As  I  suspected,  ma'am,  my  story  begins  about 
where  yours  ends.  Leastwise"  the  'threads  don't 
overlap  much,  and  'twon't  take  much  of  a  splice  to 
make  mine  tit  right  on  to  yours. 

"I  was  a  schoolmate  of  the  captain, and, like  him, 
always  had  a  love  for  the  sea.  But  my  father  and 
mother  objected  so  strongly  to  a  sailor's  career  for 
their  onlv  child,  I  yielded  to  their  wishes  as  long  .... 
they  lived. 

"  But  when  Captain  Larkin  left  his  wife  here,  and 
sailed  for  Europe,  my  parents  were  dead,  and  I  was 
free  to  carry  out  my  long  cherished  purpose.  I 
shipped  as  a  green  hand  on  the  captain's  vessel, 
and  so  was  with  him  when  your  letter  reached  him. 

"lie  called  me  into  his  cabin,  and  read  the  sad 
message  it  contained.  "When  be  had  finished  he 
said  : 

" '  Jack,  my  boy  as  well  as  my  wife  must  now  be 
dead.  I  have,  therefore,  nothing  to  go  home  for. 
Instead  of  looking  for  a  cargo  for  the  States,  I  shall 
go  anywhere  I  can  pick  up  a  freight.  It  is  no  more 
than  'fair  to  tell  you  of  this,  so  you  may,  if  you 
choose,  ship  on  some  vessel  sailing  home.' 

" '  Captain,'   I   replied,   '  I   have  no   one  in  the 


THE  GREAT  ANVIL  PLANTATION.  33 

States  that  has  as  much  claim  on  me  as  yourself. 
"We've  always  been  friends,  and  I  shall  stay  by  you.' 

"He  seemed  pleased,  and  added :  '  When  we  sail, 
Jack,  you  shall  be  in  the  cabin  as  second  mate.' 

"  We  got  a  freight  for  San  Juan,  Porto  Kico,  and 
carried  two  passengers,  an  old  Spaniard,  Don 
Maximo  Buvinez,  and  his  grandchild.  The  latter 
was  a  bright  little  fellow  of  five,  an  orphan,  and 
the  grandfather  had  made  the  voyage  from  Porto 
Rico  to  Spain  on  purpose  to  obtain  the  lad.  He 
was  now  taking  him  to  his  own  estate  in  the  island 
for  which  we  were  sailing. 

The  old  Don  was  reserved,  and  made  friends  with 
us  slowly.  Not  so  with  the  lad,  however  ;  he  was 
soon  the  pet  of  both  officers  and  crew. 

"  The  captain  particularly  took  to  the  child,  per- 
haps through  the  thought  of  the  boy  he  had  him- 
self lost ;  and.  it  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  the 
captain  walking  the  quarterdeck  with  little  Maximo 
(for  the  child  had  his  grandfather's  name)  in  his 
arms. 

"  One  day  when  we  were  about  half  across  the 
ocean,  there  was  a  sudden  squall.  All  of  us  were 
busy  securing  sail,  and  putting  the  ship  into  shape 
to  run  before  the  gale,  and  did  not  notice  the  boy, 
until  there  was  a  quick  lurch  of  the  vessel ;  then  a 
plunge,  followed  by  a  loud  shriek,  which  told  the 
story.  The  lad  was  overboard. 

"  The  captain  himself  was  the  first  to  notice  the 
accident,  and  instantly  his  commands  rang  out  loud 
and  clear : 

"  *  Mr.  Harlow,' — he  was  chief  mate — *  heave  to 
the  ship.  Mr.  Barnes,' — that  was  me — '  man  the  life- 
boat and  pick  me  up.' 

"  While  speaking  he  was  throwing  off  his  boots 
and  coat  ;  as  he  finished  he  plunged  overboard  after 
the  boy. 

"  There  was  some  lively  work  clone  in  the  next 

3 


34:  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

half-hour.  By  the  time  the  ship  was  brought  into 
the  wind,  the  life-boat  was  ready  to  be  lowered.  I 
sprang  in,  with  six  as  good  men  as  ever  pulled  an 
oar. 

"  The  waves  ran  high,  and  half  the  time  we  were 
in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  But  each  time  we  rose  on 
a  crest  I  looked  anxiously  about  me,  steering  all 
the  time  in  the  direction  I  thought  the  captain  had 
gone. 

"  For  some  minutes  we  saw  nothing,  and  heard 
nothing  but  the  whistling  of  the  storm.  I  was  'most 
ready  to  give  up  all  hopes  of  saving  either  the  cap- 
tain or  the  boy,  when  a  shout  a  little  to  the  star- 
board attracted  our  attention,  and  there,  buffet- 
ing those  great  billows,  as  quietly  as  though  on 
the  calmest  water,  was  the  captain,  with  the  little 
fellow  clasped  in  his  arms. 

"  The  next  instant  we  were  alongside  of  him,  and 
in  a  moment  more  we  had  pulled  him  and  his  burden 
into  the  boat.  Both  he  and  the  lad  were  con- 
scious, and  the  captain's  one  thought  was  still  for 
the  comfort  of  the  child. 

"  '  Your  coat,  Mr.  Barnes,'  he  said,  and  as  he 
wrapped  the  boy  in  it  he  gave  the  order  : 

"  '  Back  to  the  ship,  as  soon  as  possible,  lads.' 

"  We  didn't  need  any  special  urging  along  that 
line,  however ;  and  gave  way  with  hearty  good-will. 
It  was  a  hard  pull,  and  I  can't  say  we  should  have 
ever  reached  the  vessel  had  not  the  squall  swept 
over  almost  as  suddenly  as  it  came.  The  sea  still 
remained  rough,  but  we  didn't  have  the  wind  to 
pull  against,  and  so  reached  the  vessel  at  last. 

u  The  happiest  man  I  ever  saw  was  that  old  Don, 
•when  the  boy,  clothed  in  my  jacket,  piped  up  in  his 
Spanish : 

"  k  Here!  am,  grandpa,  all  right.  Captain  Larkin 
came  overboard  after  me.' 

"  Well,  it  did  seem  as  though  the  old  Spaniard 


THE  GREAT  ANVIL  PLANTATION.  35 

couldn't  do  enough  for  us  all.  As  for  the  captain, 
that  brave  act  of  his  made  him  the  greatest  hero  on 
earth  in  the  eyes  of  the  Don.  He  almost  worshiped 
him. 

"  And  when  he  learned  of  the  sorrow  the  captain 
had  recently  passed  through,  he  took  that  youngster 
and  put  him  into  the  officer's  arms,  saying :  '  He's 
yours,  as  well  as  mine.  But  for  you  I  shouldn't 
have  him  at  all.' 

"  When  we  reached  port,  he  gave  every  sailor 
on  board  fifty  pesos,  and  every  officer  one  hundred, 
except  the  captain.  To  him  he  said  : 

"  '  You  must  go  out  to  my  estate  with  me,'  and  he 
would  not  take  no  for  an  answer. 

"Mr.  Harlow,  our  chief  mate,  decided  to  leave 
the  vessel  here,  as  he  wanted  to  get  back  to  the 
States.  So  I  was  made  first  officer,  and  put  in 
charge  of  the  ship  while  the  captain  was  away. 

"  When  he  came  back  he  remarked  tome : 

"  '  Jack,  I  never  -:aw  such  a  plantation  as  that  of 
the  old  Don.  It  is  up  in  the  extreme  northeastern 
part  of  the  island,  where  there  is  the  highest  peak 
of  the  Luquillo  range,  known  as  El  Yunque,  or,  as 
we  should  say  in  English,  The  Anvil.  It  curiously 
resembles  the  blacksmith's  block  in  its  shape,  and 
looms  up  there  at  the  very  least  four  thousand  five 
hundred  feet  high. 

"  '  On  the  southern  slope  of  this  mountain,  and 
running  from  the  valley  up  under  the  sharp  point  of 
The  Anvil,  is  the  Don's  estate  of  nearly  fifteen  thou- 
sand acres.  It  consists  of  forests  of  valuable  woods, 
of  fields  of  tobacco  and  cotton,  of  orchards  of  bananas, 
and  oranges  and  lemons,  and  plantains,  and  pine- 
apples, of  lowlands  of  sugar-cane  and  rice.  Stretch- 
ing as  it  does  from  the  lowest  valley  to  the  mount- 
ain peak,  there  is  hardly  a  crop  of  the  tropics  that 
is  not  prolific  there.  Little  Maximo  will  have  a 
fine  property  one  of  these  days.' 


36  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  But  that  wasn't  all  the  captain  had  to  tell.  The 
old  Spaniard  was  interested  in  the  firm  to  whom 
our  cargo  had  been  consigned,  and  through  his  in- 
fluence one  of  their  finest  freight  and  passenger 
steamers,  plying  between  San  Juan  and  Barcelona, 
had  been  offered  Captain  Larkin.  It  meant  a  per- 
manent place  and  a  big  salary  for  him,  and  if  I 
would  go  along  with  him  as  his  first  officer,  he  was 
going  to  accept. 

"I  said  'yes'  as  soon  as  the  captain  mentioned 
it,  and  two  weeks  later,  with  the  old  brig  sold  at  a 
good  price  for  the  coasting  trade,  we  sailed  for 
Spain  in  charge  o£  as  fine  a  craft,  for  her  trade  and 
tonnage,  as  ever  floated. 

"  Nearly  every  time  we  returned  to  the  island  the 
old  Don  and  the  boy  were  at  the  city  waiting  to  see 
the  captain  ;  sometimes  they  made  the  trip  with  us ; 
and  occasionally  the  captain  went  out  to  the  planta- 
tion for  a  short  visit. 

"  Matters  went  on  this  way  until  about  seven 
years  ago.  I  remember  the  time  well,  for  instead  of 
seeing  the  old  Spaniard  and  his  grandson,  an  old 
servitor  from  the  estate  came  on  board,  as  soon  as 
we  were  in  the  harbor,  with  a  note  for  the  captain. 

"  It  told  him  little  Maximo  was  dead — had  died 
of  the  fever — and  that  the  old  Don  lay  very  low 
with  the  same  fatal  disease.  It  furthermore  re- 
quested him  to  come  down  to  the  plantation  at  once. 

"  Stopping  only  long  enough  to  report  the  voyage 
to  the  agents,  he  obeyed  this  imperative  summons. 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  DREAM.  37 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE   CAPTAIN'S  DREAM. 

"  AT  the  time  of  the  steamer's  sailing,"  continued 
Mr.  Barnes,  "  the  captain  had  not  returned,  and  so, 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  made  a  voyage  under 
another  skipper.  When  I  got  back  to  the  island  a 
few  weeks  later,  however,  I  found  Captain  Larkin 
waiting  for  me. 

"  His  story  was  as  astonishing  as  it  was  simple. 
The  old  Don  was  also  dead,  but  before  dying  he  had 
deeded  all  of  his  property  in  Porto  Rico  to  the  cap- 
tain and  his  heirs  forever. 

"  For  little  Maximo's  sake  the  estate  was  dear  to 
the  captain,  and  he  had  decided  to  give  up  a  sea- 
faring life,  and  devote  himself  to  the  care  and  de- 
velopment of  the  plantation. 

"  '  And  what  1  want,  Jack,'  he  went  on,  '  is  this : 
that  you  also  quit  the  steamer,  and  come  down  to 
the  Anvil  with  me  as  my  overseer  or  agent.  The 
estate  is  too  large  for  one  man  to  handle,  and  I  need 
some  one  with  me  whom  I  can  trust  as  I  do  mv- 
self.' 

"  I  was  too  attached  to  the  captain  to  leave  him 
now,  and  partly  for  that  reason,  and  partly  for  the 
handsome  financial  offer  he  made  me,  I  gave  up  my 
position,  and  went  down  to  the  plantation  with 
him. 

"  Of  course  I'd  already  formed  some  idea  of  the 
hacienda  from  what  the  captain  had  told  me  ;  but, 
bless  you,  he  had  been  altogether  too  modest  in  his 


38  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

way  of  putting  it.  The  old  Don  was  a  good  deal  of 
a  business  man  for  a  Spaniard,  and  bad  brought  the 
estate  to  a  degree  of  cultivation  hardly  surpassed  in 
the  whole  island. 

"  Valleys,  and  hills,  and  mountain-side,  were  dotted 
with  native  huts ;  a  thousand  laborers  toiled  in  the 
forests,  and  orchards,  and  fields.  Already  the  reve- 
nues of  the  plantation  were  enormous ;  and  yet  as 
nothing  beside  what  Yankee  enterprise  and  inge- 
nuity could  make  them. 

"  It  was  not  long  before  the  captain  had  his  plans 
of  operation  matured.  The  estate  was  to  be  divided 
into  small  districts,  and  each  placed  under  a  gefe,  or 
native  chief,  who  was  to  report  at  regular  intervals 
to  me,  the  head  agent. 

"  Machinery,  to  lighten  the  labor  of  the  workmen, 
and  to  increase  the  productive  area  of  the  estate, 
was  to  be  brought  in  from  the  States.  Direct  ship- 
ment of  the  products  to  the  most  available  ports 
was  to  be  arranged  for. 

"The  oversight  of  these  improvements,  the  bring- 
ing in  of  needed  supplies,  and  the  paying  off  the 
laborers  have  kept  the  captain  and  myself  busy 
indeed. 

"  For  seven  years  this  has  been  our  life.  Thus  is 
it  that  the  Anvil  has  become  a  home  to  us;  and 
neither  one  of  us  expected  to  come  to  our  native 
land  again  until  two  or  three  weeks  ago.  Then  our 
whole  plans  -were  suddenly  changed  by  a  dream  of 
the  captain. 

"I  remember  the  morning  well.  I  had  gone  into 
the  dining-room  for  my  lunch  and  coffee,  before 
making  my  usual  round  among  the  overseers,  and 
to  my  surprise  found  the  captain  there  before  me. 
He  looked  pale  and  distracted,  and  I  said  to  him  : 

"  '  What's  up,  Captain  ?     Don't  you  feel  well  ? ' 

"  *  Not  very,  Jack,'  he  admitted,  slowly.  '  I  didn't 
sleep  much  last  night,  and  all  from  a  dream  I  had.' 


She  led  me  into  the  back  chamber,  and  there  lying  on  the 
bed  was  a  lad  of  abotit  sixteen  years.  "  Our  boy,"  she  said, 
and  vanished. — Page  39.  Yankee  Lad's  Pluck, 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  DREAM.  39 

"  *  That's  strange,  Captain,'  I  responded.  '  You 
aren't  often  troubled  that  way.' 

"  '  JS*  o,'  he  answered  ;  and  then  continued  softly, 
almost  reverently  : 

" '  I  saw  Annie  last  night,  Jack,  as  plainly  as  I 
now  see  you.     She  came  and  sat  down  by  my  bed 
side,  saying  :  "  Albert,  come  with  me." 

"  '  I  arose,  and  taking  her  by  the  hand,  she  led  me 
out  of  the  house.  At  first  I  wondered  if  I  was  not 
already  in  heaven,  and  so  reunited  with  my  loved 
wife  forever. 

" '  But  the  way  she  led  me  was  earthly  enough. 
Across  the  mountains  to  San  Juan,  over  the  sea  by 
steamer  to  New  York,  by  train  to  Goodport,  and 
by  team  to  Montville. 

"  '  Once  in  the  village  she  took  me  to  the  grave- 
yard. It  was  moonlight,  and  I  had  no  difficulty  in 
seeing  every  object  around  me.  I  looked  for  twro 
marble  shafts,  marking  the  places  of  my  dead,  but 
I  saw  but  one — a  simple  stone,  on  which  my  wife's 
name  and  age,  and  date  of  decease,  were  engraved 
clearly. 

"  '  I  wondered  that  there  was  no  stone  for  my 
child,  and  looked  questioningly  at  my  wife. 
"  Come  with  me,"  she  again  said,  and  led  me  out  of 
the  cemetery,  and  down  the  street  to  the  vine-clad 
cottage — her  old  home. 

" '  Into  the  house,  up  the  stairs,  and  into  the  back 
chamber,  we  went ;  and  lying  there  on  the  bed, 
sleeping  quietly,  was  a  lad  of  about  sixteen  years. 
There  was  a  look  of  my  wife  in  the  boy's  face,  and 
I  needed  not  her  next  exclamation  to  tell  me  who 
he  was. 

"  '  "Our  boy,"  she  said,  and  vanished. 

"  '  I  awoke,  Jack,  and  found  it  was  a  dream.  But 
I  couldn't  throw  off  the  impression  it  made  upon 
me;  and  lying  there  wide  awake,  I  thought  the 
matter  over. 


40  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

" '  It  was  true  that  I  had  heard  nothing  in  all  those 
years  from  the  old  home ;  but  Mary  might  have 
written  a  dozen  times,  and  the  letters  never  have 
reached  me.  It  might  be  that  my  boy  was  really 
alive. 

"  '  And,  Jack,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  have  con- 
cluded. It  is  to  send  you  to  America.  I  won't  go 
myself,  for,  if  there  should  be  nothing  in  my  dream, 
I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  couldn't  any  way.  But  you 
shall  go. 

"  '  Visit  your  old  home  and  friends  first,  if  you 
care  to  ;  but  go  also  over  to  Montville,  and  see  how 
it  is  with  Mary ;  and  if, — if  the  boy  is  really  alive 
— send  me  word — cable  it  at  once  to  my  bankers  in 
San  Juan.  For  I  shall  arrange  with  them  to  send 
any  message  that  comes  from  you  down  here  by  a 
special  courier. 

"  '  Then  write  me  in  full  all  about  the  lad — 3rour 
impressions  of  him — and  I  will  then  decide  whether 
to  return  to  the  States  myself,  or  have  you  bring  the 
boy  out  here  to  me. 

" '  If  he  is  dead,  and  my  dream  has  no  more  to  it 
than  dreams  usually  do — then  see  that  Mary  is 
provided  for,  for  she  may  be  in  need.  I  see  now 
that  1  ought  not  to  have  neglected  her  as  I  have. 

" '  This  is  asking  much  of  you,  Jack ;  but  I  must 
know  whether  I  have  a  living  child  or  not.  I  can't 
shake  off  the  impression  my  dream  has  made,  until 
I  hava  positive  information  from  the  old  home  that 
the  boy  really  died  in  his  infancy,  as  I  have  so  long 
believed.  Name  your  own  price  for  the  service,  old 
and  faithful  friend  ;  but  say  you  will  go.' 

"  There  were  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  pleading  in  his 
voice,  as  he  held  out  his  hand"  to  me,  to  seal  the  com- 
pact. 

"  Grasping  it  heartily,  I  answered  : 

" '  Of  course  I  will  go,  Captain,'  and  the  next  day 
I  started. 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  DREAM.  41 

"  I  had  to  wait  a  little  in  San  Juan  for  a  steamer, 
but  took  the  first  one  that  sailed,  a  fruiter  bound 
for  Boston.  Ten  days  later  I  landed  in  that  city, 
and  by  the  first  train  came  up  to  Goodport,  my 
native  town. 

"  I  hardly  knew  the  place,  it  had  grown  so,  but 
found  little  change  in  the  old  farm  on  its  suburbs, 
where  I  was  born,  and  where  father  and  mother 
died.  The  cousin  to  whom  I  sold  the  place  before 
I  went  to  sea  was  still  there,  and  welcomed  me  as 
one  from  the  dead. 

"  What  I  ought  to  have  done  was  to  have  had 
sense  enough  to  come  over  here  by  team  or  on 
horseback — something  I  am  used  to.  But  my  cousin 
had  a  bicycle,  and  declared  he  had  frequently  ridden 
over  here  on  it  to  see  his  married  daughter.  I  was 
at  once  fascinated  with  the  idea  of  learning  to  ride, 
and  then  making  my  own  trip  over  here  on  a  wheel. 
So  I  began  to  learn,  and  in  a  few  days,  thinking  I 
had  mastered  the  whole  business,  set  out — with  what 
disastrous  result  you  already  know. 

"  But,  lad,  your  father  is  alive  and  well.  You 
may  be  sure  of  that,  and  the  next  thing  is  to  send 
him  word  about  yourself.  I  know  we  could  tele- 
phone over  to  Goodport  from  here,  and  have  a 
cablegram  forwarded  to  him  ;  but  I  want  my  traps 
from  my  cousin's,  as  I  shall  now  make  this  my 
home.  So  you  may  drive  over  to  the  city  to-mor- 
row, if  pleasant,  and  attend  to  both  errands.  In 
less  than  three  days,  if  the  courier  from  San  Juan, 
meets  with  no  mishap,  the  captain  will  know  you 
are  living.  Then  we'll  write  him  full  particulars, 
and  await  his  orders." 


42  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A   BKAVE    ACT. 

EARLY  the  next  morning  Bert  secured  a  horse  and 
buggy  at  the  nearest  stable,  and  drove  over  to  Good- 
port.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  the  lad  was  in 
full  sympathy  with  it. 

Life  and  its  possibilities  had  never  seemed  so 
great  to  him.  He  had,  it  is  true,  but  a  vague  idea 
of  his  father's  plantation  ;  it  was  hard  for  him  to 
realize  what  thousands  of  acres  in  a  tropical  island, 
with  all  its  richness  and  variety  of  crops  and  fruits, 
meant ;  his  estimation  of  his  father's  wealth  might 
be  an  exaggeration. 

But  to  have  a  father ;  to  know  that  that  father 
was  in  a  position  to  provide  abundantly  for  him — 
beyond  what  any  boy's  father  in  all  Montville  could 
do  perhaps — this  gave  him  a  buoyance  and  ecstasy 
no  words  could  express.  He  wanted  to  sing — to 
rival  the  very  birds  in  their  morning  carols — for 
who  was  happier  than  he  ? 

And  he  was  on  the  way  to  send  that  father  a 
message  that  would  be  worth  more  to  him  than  all 
his  wealth — great  as  that  might  be  ;  to  tell  him  that 
his  boy  was  alive — that  he  had  some  one  to  love 
him :  some  one  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood  to  love. 
Life  would  now  be  so  different  to  him. 

In  his  -nusings  the  lad  found  himself  anticipating 
the  reception  of  that  message.  Plow  would  his 
father  be  affected  ?  "Would  the  joy  be  too  great 
for  him  ?  He  had  heard  of  instances  where  sudden 
joy  proved  as  great  a  shock  as  sudden  sorrow. 


A  BRAVE  ACT.  43 

What  would  his  father  do  ?  Would  he  catch  the 
first  steamer  for  America,  and  hasten  to  his  child  ? 
Or  cable  for  his  son  to  join  him  at  once  in  San  Juan  ? 
Or  by  the  slower  method  of  communication — writing 
— make  his  wishes  known  ?  Whichever  it  was  Bert 
secretly  hoped  the  decision  would  be  for  him  to  join 
his  father  rather  than  that  his  father  should  come 
to  him. 

He  had  never  been  twenty  miles  from  Montville 
in  all  his  life.  Some  of  his  schoolmates  had  been  to 
Boston  ;  others  had  been  to  New  York  ;  while  one 
had  actually  been  as  far  as  Washington;  and  how 
he  had  envied  them  all. 

But  what  if  he  should  go  to  Porto  Rico — and  to 
his  father's  own  plantation  there?  Not  one  of  his 
school-fellows  had  made  such  a  trip,  or  would  be 
likely  to,  and  he  should  be  the  envy  of  them  all. 

Bert  was  human,  and  as  he  recalled  the  slights  he 
had  received  while  in  poverty  from  some  who  felt 
that  they  were  socially  above  him,  he  could  not 
repress  entirely  the  feelings  of  exultation  that  would 
arise  as  he  recalled  his  sudden  good  fortune. 

But  he  was  not  a  vain  boy,  and  had  too  much 
good  sense  to  entertain  any  idea  of  lording  it  over 
his  fellows,  or  to  allow  his  sudden  uplift  in  worldly 
prospects  to  make  any  real  difference  in  his  treat- 
ment of  others. 

He  reached  Goodport  an  hour  before  noon  ;  drove 
up  to  the  best  hotel ;  ordered  his  horse  carefully 
groomed  and  fed  ;  and  booked  his  name  for  dinner. 

Then  he  went  to  the  telegraph  office,  and  sent  the 
message  Mr.  Barnes  had  given  him  : 

"  GOODPORT,  MAY  19TH,  1897. 
"  To  CAPTAIN  ALBERT  LARKIN, 

"  Care  of  Marinos,  Tempero,  and  Vadenti, 

"  San  Juan,  Porto  Rico. 

"  Boy  is  alive  and  well.  Full  explanation  by  next 
mail.  ."  BARNES." 


44  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

This  pleasant  duty  discharged,  he  walked  leisurely 
about  the  streets  of  the  city.  He  had  been  there 
but  once  before,  and  there  was  much  in  its  busy  life 
to  attract  his  attention. 

First  he  went  down  to  the  docks,  and  looked  at 
the  shipping.  A  large  steamer  was  leaving  the 
harbor,  and  he  tried  to  imagine  himself  a  passenger 
on  her  deck,  sailing  for  the  far-off  island  where  his 
father  was. 

Slowly  retracing  his  steps,  he  turned  into  a  side 
street,  that  led  him  to  the  railroad  tracks.  As  he 
approached  the  crossing,  he  saw  that  a  train  was 
coming,  and  stopped  to  let  it  pass  before  venturing 
over. 

But  his  own  caution  was  not  exercised  by  a  lady 
and  gentleman,  and  young  miss,  of  perhaps  twelve 
years,  who  were  just  in  front  of  him. 

"I  believe  that  is  our  train,"  the  man  said  ;  "  we 
must  hurry,''  and  though  the  warning  bells  were 
already  tinkling,  and  the  street  guards  were  drop- 
ping into  their  place,  he  started  to  run  across  the 
track  ahead  of  the  train,  followed  by  his  Avife  and 
daughter. 

Bert  watched  them  anxiously,  for  the  swiftly 
moving  train  was  coming  alarmingly  near.  The 
gentleman  and  lady  reached  the  farther  side  of  the 
crossing  in  safety,  but  as  they  did  so,  there  came  a 
piercing  scream  from  the  young  girl. 

In  an  instant  the  lad  saw  what  had  happened. 
Her  foot  had  in  some  way  caught  between  the  rail 
and  the  planking  of  the  crossing,  and  she  was  unable 
to  remove  it. 

Her  unfortunate  predicament  was  discovered  by 
her  parents  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  mother 
sent  up  the  heart-rending  cry  : 

"  Ella !  Ella  !  she  will  be  killed  !  " 

The  father  dropped  the  valise  he  was  carrying, 
and  started  to  his  daughter's  assistance;  but  the 


A  BRAVE  ACT.  45 

next  minute  his  wife  fell  in  a  dead  faint  at  his  feet, 
and  his  attention  was  for  the  time  distracted  from 
the  peril  his  daughter  was  in — a  distraction  that 
would  have  been  fatal  to  the  young  girl  had  not  an- 
other sprung  to  her  help. 

That  other  was  Bert.  The  moment  he  realized 
her  danger,  he  had  darted  under  the  guarding-bars, 
and  run  to  her  side.  Catching  hold  of  her  ankle,  he 
gave  the  wedged  foot  a  vigorous  pull,  but  it  did  not 
move. 

He  glanced  up  at  the  whistling  engine,  more  to 
judge  how  much  time  was  left  him  than  with  any 
thought  of  his  own  peril.  It  was  not  fifty  feet  away. 

As  he  glanced  he  did  the  only  thing  to  be  clone, 
and  what  perhaps  but  few  would  have  thought  of— 
unbuttoned  the  girl's  shoe,  gave  the  limb  a  quick 
jerk,  and  with  the  girl  in  his  arms  jumped  back- 
wards off  the  track. 

So  close  was  the  engine  that  the  father,  who  had 
left  the  fainting  mother,  and  hurried  to  assist  the 
young  stranger,  thought  both  were  ground  beneath 
its  wheels.  And  so  thought  the  crowd  that  had 
gathered  in  the  street  just  beyond  the  crossing. 
But  when  the  train  had  rushed  by,  there  stood  the 
young  lad,  holding  the  pale  and  trembling  girl  in 
his  arms,  both  unhurt. 

The  father  grasped  the  young  rescuer's  hand  with- 
out a  word,  and  then,  with  the  help  of  the  bystand- 
ers, both  mother  and  daughter  were  carried  to  the 
waiting-room  of  the  depot,  but  a  few  rods  away. 

There  restoratives  were  applied  to  the  unconscious 
lady,  and  soon  she  was  able  to  clasp  her  daughter 
in  warm  embrace,  and  assure  herself  that  she  had 
escaped  all  injury.  As  was  natural  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, however,  both  women  for  a  while  were 
somewhat  hysterical ;  but  at  length  calmed  down 
enough  for  the  gentleman  to  say  to  them  : 

"  We  have  lost  our  train,  but  there  will  be  an- 


46  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

other  within  an  hour ;  so  it  will  not  make  much 
difference." 

"  I  wish  you  had  thought  of  that  before ;  we 
might  have  been  saved  this  terrible  ordeal,"  retorted 
his  wife,  more  sharply  than  necessary,  the  waiting 
boy  could  not  help  thinking. 

"  Let  us  be  thankful  it  was  no  worse,  mama,"  said 
the  girl,  smiling  gratefully  at  Bert.  Then,  evidently 
to  turn  the  attention  of  her  parents  from  the  unfor- 
tunate experience  of  the  morning,  she  added  al- 
most gaily : 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?     I  have  but  one  shoe." 

"  Here's  your  other  one,  miss,"  remarked  a  man 
in  the  crowd  that  was  still  gathered  about  the  trio ; 
"  but  I  guess  you  will  never  wear  it  again  ; "  and  as 
he  spoke  he  passed  the  tiny  boot  to  her  father.  It 
had  been  cut  nearly  in  two  by  the  flanges  off  the 
passing  wheels. 

"  I  can  go  and  get  you  another  pair,  if  you  wish, 
Miss  Ella ;  there'll  be  plenty  of  time,"  Bert  proposed, 
and  then  blushed  at  his  own  audacity. 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  her  father  responded,  prompt- 
ly. "  Here  is  a  five-dollar  bill,"  taking  his  wallet 
from  his  pocket.  "  What  size  is  it  you  wear,  Ella  ? " 

"  Ones,  B  width,  Misses'  size,"  she  answered,  color- 
ing in  her  turn  a  little,  as  she  met  Bert's  admiring 
gaze. 

The  boy  took  the  money,  and  hastened  off  up  the 
street.  He  had  noticed  a  shoe  store  on  a  corner  of 
the  main  thoroughfare  of  the  city,  while  on  the  way 
to  the  wharves  an  hour  before. 

Hurrying  there,  he  selected  a  dainty  pair  of  shoes 
of  the  required  size,  paying  three  dollars  for  them, 
and  went  back  to  the  depot. 

The  gentleman  had  gone  to  check  his  grip,  and 
procure  his  tickets,  so  the  lad,  unhindered  by  the 
mother,  removed  the  remaining  shoe  from  the  girl's 
foot,  and  buttoned  on  the  new  pair. 


A  BRAVE  ACT.  47 

"  They  fit  splendidly,"  she  declared  as  Bert  fin- 
ished his  self-imposed  task. 

The  father  at  that  moment  returned. 

"  Here  is  your  change,  sir,"  the  lad  said  immedi- 
ately, handing  the  gentleman  the  two-dollar  bill. 
"  I  paid  three  dollars  for  the  shoes." 

"  Why  don't  you  give  the  money  to  the  boy  ? "  the 
wife  interposed,  as  her  husband  took  the  bill  and 
returned  it  to  his  pocket.  "  I'm  sure  he  deserves  it." 

"  Because  he  has  rendered  us  a  service  that  cannot 
be  paid  in  dollars  and  cents,"  he  replied  warmly. 
Then  to  Bert  he  said  : 

"  Pardon  me !  In  our  excitement  we  have  not 
thought  to  thank  you  for  as  heroic  a  deed  as  was 
ever  done,  or  even  to  ask  your  name  ! " 

"  Bert  Larkin,"  the  young  hero  answered. 

"  Do  you  live  in  the  city  ? " 

"  No,  sir ;  over  at  Montville,  eighteen  miles  from 
here.  I  came  over  to  the  city  an  hour  ago  on  busi- 
ness, and  happened  to  be  at  the  crossing  at  the  time 
of  your  daughter's  accident,"  the  lad  explained. 

He  wanted  to  ask  that  daughter's  full  name,  and 
where  she  lived,  whether  in  the  city  01  not,  but 
hardly  dared  to  do  so.  While  he  was  wondering  if 
there  was  any  way  in  which  he  could  ascertain  these 
— to  him  all-important — facts  without  a  direct  qu3S- 
tion,  the  next  train  was  announced. 

At  once  the  gentleman  turned  to  Bert,  saying: 
"  Here  is  my  card.  You  will  hear  from  me  again  ; 
and  we  shall  expect  you,  whenever  you  come  to  the 
city,  to  call  upon  us.  Eemember,  moreover,  if  I 
can  ever  be  of  any  service  to  you,  you  have  but  to 
command  me." 

Before  Bert  could  look  at  the  tiny  piece  of  card- 
board, the  young  girl  caught  his  hand  : 

"  You  are  the  bravest  boy  in  the  world,"  she  said, 
impulsively ;  "  and  I  shall  never  forget  you,"  then 
she  followed  her  father  and  mother  to  the  train. 


48  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Bert  gazed  after  them  until  they  were  in  the  car ; 
then  he  caught  sight  of  the  mutilated  shoe.  Pick- 
ing it  up  his  first  thought  was  to  board  the  train, 
and  give  it  to  the  girl,  but  he  quickly  changed  his 
mind. 

"  No,  I'll  keep  it,"  he  said.  Then  he  glanced  at 
the  card  he  still  held  in  his  hand.  It  read : 

JOHN  H.    GREENE 
ATTORNEY  AND  COUNSELLOR- AT-LAW. 

WHITLOW  BLOCK,  ROOM  4,  GOODPORT. 
Residence,  175  Carey  Avenue. 

"  So  her  name  is  Ella  Greene,"  he  murmured. 
"  I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  see  her  again.  Of  course 
I  shall,"  he  added  after  a  moment's  thought.  "  Her 
father  said  I  was  to  call  when  I  came  over  here 
again,  and  I  will." 

With  that  resolve  he  put  the  card  carefully  into 
his  vest  pocket,  and  went  out  of  the  depot,  and  up 
the  street  towards  his  hotel,  with  no  idea  of  the 

treat  service  Mr.  Greene  wTould  be  able  to  render 
im  before  many  months  had  passed  ;  and  at  a  time, 
too,  when  he  was  in  sore  need. 


A  CONTEMPTIBLE  THICK.  49 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A    CONTEMPTIBLE   TRICK. 

AT  two  o'clock  Bert  had  his  horse  brought  around 
to  the  hotel  door,  and  began  his  drive  out  to  the  old 
homestead  of  Mr.  Barnes.  Mr.  Garrison,  the  pres- 
ent proprietor,  was  at  home  when  he  arrived  there, 
and  to  him  the  lad  introduced  himself. 

"  I  am  Bert  Larkin,  from  Montville,"  he  said. 
"  Mr.  Barnes,  your  cousin,  has  sent  me  over  here  for 
his  baggage." 

"  So  Cousin  Jack  wants  his  traps,  does  he  ?  How 
is  he?  Is  he  going  to  stay  over  at  Montville  any 
length  of  time?  Didn't  hint  at  such  a  thing  when 
he  went  away,  and  we  looked  for  him  to  be  back 
long  before  this,"  remarked  the  farmer,  looking  at 
the  boy  over  his  glasses. 

Briefly  Bert  told  of  the  accident  that  had  be- 
fallen the  sailor. 

"  Of  all  things !  I  want  to  know  if  he  was  fool 
enough  to  coast  down  Sugar  Loaf  hill  on  his 
wheel?"  Mr.  Garrison  exclaimed  when  the  lad 
was  done.  "  And  he's  stopping  at  your  aunt's  ? 
Is  that  the  Miss  Wheeler  he  went  over  there  to 
see  ?  And  are  you  the  son  of  Captain  Larkin, 
whom  he  hoped  to  find  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  assented  the  boy,  shortly. 

"  Then  he  hasn't  been  to  my  daughter's   at  all 

yet  ?     I  told  him  he  better  put  up  there,  though  he 

thought  he  should  go  to  the  village  hotel.     May  be 

you  know  my  gal  ?     She's  the  wife  of  Thompson, 

4 


50  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

who  keeps  a  grocery.  Likely  as  not,  though,  she 
has  heard  of  the  accident,  and  been  to  see  her  cousin 
before  now,"  the  man  rattled  on. 

"  I  know  Thompson,  and  think  he  and  his  wife 
know  of  Mr.  Barnes'  misfortune;  but  they  haven't 
called  on  him  yet,"  replied  Bert,  curtly.  He  was 
greatly  surprised  to  learn  that  the  man  whom  he 
had  helped  was  a  relative  by  marriage  of  the  mer- 
chant who  had  discharged  him  for  rendering  that 
assistance. 

"  Then  I  must  write  her,  and  she'll  call  right 
away.  We  think  lots  of  Cousin  Jack,"  he  went 
on,  with  a  significant  wink  of  his  left  eye.  "  Not 
a  child  or  chick  in  the  world,  and  has  a  pile  of 
money  to  leave  somebody  one  of  these  days. 
Might  as  well  be  us  as  any  one,  you  know.  Sure 
he'll  get  well  of  this  hurt,  ain't  ye*?  "  •- 

lie  was  satisfied  with  the  boy's  "  Oh,  yes !  "  and 
turned  and  went  into  the  house.  In  five  minutes  he 
reappeared,  bringing  two  sailor's  bags,  apparently 
stuffed  to  their  fullest  capacity.  These  he  put  into 
the  front  of  the  buggy,  saying : 

"  That's  all  the  luggage!  know  of.  Tell  Jack  I'll 
come  over  to  see  him  as  soon  as  I've  done  planting," 
and  he  watched  the  lad  until  he  had  driven  out  of 
sight. 

"  I  don't  like  it  that  Jack  is  at  that  old  maid's,"  he 
then  soliloquized.  "  She  is  sort  of  related  to  that 
Captain  Larkin,  and  has  been  a  second  mother 
to  this  boy.  'T would  be  just  like  a  sailor  to  fall 
in  love  with  and  marry  the  woman.  I'll  write 
Sarah  (his  daughter)  to  hurry  up  and  move  him 
over  to  her  house,  out  of  all  the  danger  there  may 
be  in  that  direction.  We  can't  afford  to  lose  any 
reasonable  show  for  his  money. " 

Five  miles  out  from  Goodport  there  was  a  road 
which,  leaving  the  turnpike,  wound  among  the 
neighboring  hills,  and  around  by  Hamniersley  Lake. 


A  CONTEMPTIBLE  TRICK.  51 

Then,  skirting  that  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  it  re- 
entered  the  main  highway  at  the  foot  of  Sugar 
Loaf  hill,  as  we  have  had  occasion  to  notice  in  a 
previous  chapter. 

It  was  a  much  longer  route  than  that  of  the  turn- 
pike, and  a  more  romantic  one.  But  time  or  dis- 
tance made  little  difference  to  Bert  that  afternoon, 
so,  on  reaching  this  road,  he  turned  into  it,  and 
drove  slowly  along  its  circuitous  path  towards  his 
destination. 

It  was  perhaps  half-past  five  when  he  reached  the 
head  of  the  lake,  three  miles  out  of  the  village. 
Then  he  pulled  up  his  horse. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  can  find  any  Mayflowers  over  in 
Narrow  Glen,"  he  said  aloud  ;  "  if  so,  I'll  take  some 
home  to  Aunt  Mary." 

lie  jumped  out,  hitched  his  horse  to  an  adjacent 
tree,  and  started  down  through  the  woods  towards 
the  glen,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant. 

In  about  half  an  hour  he  returned  with  both 
hands  full  of  the  delicate  and  sweet-scented  flowers 
he  had  been  seeking.  As  he  came  in  sight  of  nis 
conveyance,  however,  he  saw  something  that  led 
him  to  drop  the  beautiful  blossoms  he  had  taken 
such  trouble  to  obtain,  and  dash  off  towards  the 
road  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

He  reached  the  highway  to  find  the  two  bags 
and  the  mutilated  shoe  (for  some  reason  that  it 
would  have  been  hard  for  the  lad  to  explain,  the 
latter  was  of  more  value  to  him  than  the  luggage) 
lying  on  the  ground  near  where  his  horse  had  been 
hitched,  but  the  animal  and  wagon  were  moving 
rapidly  off  towards  the  distant  town. 

Two  boys,  Sam  Thompson  and  Bill  Ecclestone, 
who  evidently  had  been  fishing  at  the  lake,  were 
now  seated  in  the  buggy.  The  former  held  the 
reins,  and  as  he  whipped  up  the  horse  he  called  out, 
tauntingly  : 


52  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  This  pays  up  for  last  Saturday,  Bert  Larkin ! 
"We  had  to  walk  then,  and  you  can  walk  now.  AVe 
don't  allow  a  fellow  like  you  to  have  all  the  ease 
and  style  when  we  can  prevent  it.  So  long,"  and 
a  moment  later  the  rascally  pair  disappeared  around 
a  bend  in  the  road. 

Between  the  lake  and  the  Martin  farm  there  were 
only  a  fe\v  houses,  and  these  were  for  the  most 
part  small  affairs,  occupied  by  foreigners,  who 
were  employed  as  woodchoppers  in  the  adjoining 
forests. 

Bert  knew  it  would  be  impossible  to  secure  a 
horse  and  wagon  from  any  of  them  for  the  rest  of 
his  journey  ;  nor  did  he  think  it  prudent  to  entrust 
Mr.  Barnes'  baggage  to  the  care  of  any  of  them 
until  he  could  return  for  it.  He  did,  therefore,  the 
only  thing  to  be  done  under  the  circumstances — 
shouldered  the  bags,  and  began  his  long  tramp  to 
the  village. 

When  opposite  the  laneway  that  led  into  the 
Martin  homestead  he  was  at  first  inclined  to  go  in 
there  and  leave  the  bags  with  the  farmer  until  the 
next  day.  But  on  second  thought  he  decided  to 
carry  them  on  home. 

"  It  will  be  dark  before  I  reach  the  cottage,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "  and  maybe  I  can  so  manage  that 
no  one  will  suspect  the  contemptible  trick  those 
boys  have  played  on  me." 

Before  he  reached  the  house  his  plan  to  conceal, 
so  far  as  possible,  the  loss  of  his  horse  and  wagon 
was  matured.  Dropping  his  load  over  the  cottage 
fence,  where  it  could  safely  lie  until  he  returned,  he 
went  around  to  the  stable.  Assuming  a  confidence 
he  did  not  altogether  feel,  he  asked  in  a  matter-of 
fact  way : 

"Those  boys  left  the  horse  here  all  right,  Mr. 
Brown,  didn't  they  ?  " 

To  his  relief  the  livery-man  promptly  replied : 


A  CONTEMPTIBLE  TRICK.  53 

"Yes,  all  right — and  more  than  an  hour  ago. 
They  said  you'd  call  and  pay  for  it." 

So  he  was  able  to  settle  for  the  use  of  the  team 
without  having  the  o \vner  suspect  the  real  circum- 
stances of  the  case. 

"  There,  the  worst  is  safely  over,"  he  thought  in 
secret  exultation,  as  he  hurried  back  towards  the 
cottage.  "  I  can  walk  into  the  house  with  those 
bags  on  my  shoulder  and  Aunt  Mary  and  Mr.  Barnes 
will  think  I  have  only  brought  them  in  from  the 
street." 

But  he  was  mistaken.  Miss  Wheeler  had  been  up 
town  that  afternoon,  and  seeing  the  two  culprits  as 
they  drove  into  the  village,  recognized  the  horse 
and  buggy  as  those  Bert  had  hired. 

She  had  no  suspicion  of  the  truth,  however,  but 
thought  possibly  Bert  was  already  home,  and  the 
team  was  now  being  used  on  some  errand  for  its 
owner  by  the  lads  who  were  driving  it. 

On  arriving  at  the  cottage,  and  finding  her  neph- 
ew had  not  returned,  she  became  somewhat  alarmed, 
and  waited  his  coming  with  anxiety. 

As  he  came  in  tugging  the  sailor's  luggage,  she 
at  a  glance  took  in  his  heated  and  dusty  appearance 
and  asked  in  tones  loud  enough  to  reach  Mr.  Barnes' 
ears  : 

"  What  in  the  world,  Bert  Larkin,  have  you  been 
doing  ?  How  came  you  to  let  Sam  Thompson  and 
Bill  Ecclestone  have  your  horse,  while  you  tramped 
home,  and  brought  this  load  too  ?  " 

There  was  no  escape  now.  The  story  had  to  be 
told,  and  when  he  had  finished,  his  aunt  freed  her 
mind. 

"  No  one  but  a  Thompson  would  do  such  a  mean 
trick  as  that !  You  can  make  up  your  mind  Sam 
was  the  leader  of  it !  It  is  right  on  a  par  with  his 
father's  meanness  in  discharging  you  for  helping 
Mr.  Barnes ! " 


54  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

The  patient,  through  the  open  doors,  heard  every 
word  of  this  conversation,  and  calling  the  woman 
and  lad  to  his  bedside,  insisted  upon  being  told  the 
whole  truth  about  the  Thompsons,  both  father  and 
son. 

Miss  Wheeler,  who  knew  nothing  of  her  guest's 
connection  with  the  Thompson  family,  related  both 
stories,  now  so  familiar  to  our  readers,  with  com- 
ments that  were  anything  but  creditable  to  the  prin- 
cipal in  each,  notwithstanding  Bert's  persistent 
efforts  to  check  her. 

"  And  that's  the  kind  of  man  Cousin  Sarah  married, 
is  it  ? "  questioned  the  sailor  when  she  had  completed 
her  tale,  and  there  was  evident  disgust  in  his  tones. 

The  cat  was  out  of  the  bag  now,  and  there  was 
no  use  in  trying  to  catch  him.  But  Miss  Wheeler 
understood  why  her  nephew  had  tried  to  silence 
her ;  she  was  not  the  woman  to  eat  her  own  words, 
however,  without  just  cause. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  you,  Mr.  Barnes,"  she  remarked 
grimly.  "  It  is  awful  to  feel  you  are  connected  with 
such  a  family  ;  but  what  I've  said  is  true,  and  I 
sha'n't  change  it." 

"  No  apology  is  necessary,  ma'am,"  interposed  the 
sick  man.  "Mrs.  Thompson  is  my  cousin's  daughter 
over  at  Goodport,  and  he  wanted  me  to  stop  with 
them  while  I  was  looking  you  up.  But  heaven 
knows  I'd  rather  be  here  with  a  broken  limb  than 
stay  with  such  people.  For  the  first  time  I  see  how 
fortunate  my  accident  was.  Good  lordy  !  discharge 
a  clerk  for  trying  to  be  kind  to  a  fellow-creature, 
or  for  taking  the  time  to  be?  It's  enough  to  make 
a  minister  say  swear-words,  now,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  he'd  stand  a  chance  of  being  forgiven 
before  Thompson  would,"  was  Miss  Wheeler's  last 
fling,  as  she  went  off  to  the  kitchen  to  get  Bert  some 
supper. 


MR.  BARNES  HAS  A  VISITOR.  55 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MR.    BARNES    HAS    A    VISITOR. 

WHILE  Bert  was  eating,  his  aunt  busied  herself  in 
unpacking  Mr.  Barnes'  luggage,  and  placing  the 
articles  in  the  bedroom  closet.  When  she  came  to 
the  second  bag  she  found  a  girl's  shoe,  horribly 
mutilated,  tied  to  its  handle.  Loosening  it  from  the 
cord,  she  held  it  out  towards  the  sailor,  asking  with 
some  curiosity  : 

"  What  is  this  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure,  ma'am,  I  don't  know,"  the  invalid  an- 
swered, as  puzzled  as  she  ;  "  I  never  saw  it  before." 

Bert  was,  therefore,  called  on  for  another  expla- 
nation, and  when  his  thrilling  adventure  had  been 
modestly  told,  Mr.  Barnes  remarked  in  evident 
admiration  : 

"  Like  father,  like  son.  Blood  will  tell  now, 
won't  it?  I  must  add  this  to  the  report  I  have 
already  prepared  to  send  the  captain.  And  that 
makes  me  think,  Bert.  I  wish  you  would  write  a 
note  to  go  along  with  it.  Your  father  would  be 
pleased,  I  know,  to  have  a  letter  from  you." 

"  1  have  already  written  one,"  the  lad  admitted. 
"  I'll  get  it,  and  you  can  read  it,  if  you  wish." 

While  Mr.  Barnes  is  perusing  it,  we  will  take  the 
liberty  of  looking  over  his  shoulder.  As  he  cannot 
see  us,  I  do  not  believe  he  will  object : 

"  MONTVILLE,  May  18,  1897. 
"  MY  OWN  DEAR  FATHER, 

"  I  have  just  heard  Aunt  Mary's  and  Mr.  Barnes' 
stories,  telling  me  all  about  you.  I  can  now  under- 


56  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

stand  why  it  is  that  you  have  remained  unseen  and 
unknown  all  these  years — why  we  have  been  unseen 
by  and  unknown  to  each  other.  And  I  want  to 
write  this,  that  I  may  tell  you  that  already  I  love 
you  with  all  my  heart.  The  fact  is,  father,  we  shall 
have  to  love  each  other  a  great  deal  to  make  up  for 
these  years  during-  which  we  have  not  known  each 
other,  and  so  could  not  express  our  love. 

"  I  shall  not  write  a  long  letter  this  time,  father, 
but  I  have  two  requests  to  make  of  you ;  and  as  they 
are  the  very  first  things  I  have  asked  of  you,  and 
seem  to  me  reasonable,  I  hope  you  will  grant  them. 

"  First,  1  want  you  to  forgive  Aunt  Mary  for  the 
wrong  she  has  done  you  as  freely  as  I  do.  No  mother 
could  have  done  more  for  her  own  child  than  she 
has  done  for  me,  and  she  now  confesses  her  wrong, 
and  is  sorry  for  it.  Then,  father,  vou  and  I  are  too 
happy,  now  that  we  have  found  each  other,  to  cherish 
any  resentment  against  any  one.  So  please  write 
us  that  you  forgive  Aunt  Mary,  and  shall  love  her 
the  same  as  before. 

"  The  second  thing  I  wish  to  ask  is  this  :  May  I  not 
come  out  to  Porto  Rico  with  Mr.  Barnes,  and  stay 
with  you  at  The  Anvil  until  another  spring  ?  I  will 
then  return  to  the  States,  and  go  to  any  school  you 
may  select.  But  I  want  to  be  with  you  for  a  few 
months,  to  see  your  home,  and  learn  to  know  you  as 
other  boys  know  their  fathers.  So  please  do  write : 
'  Come.' 

"  Your  own  boy, 

"  BERT." 

"  I  guess,  lad,  you'll  get  both  of  your  requests 
fast  enough,"  the  sailor  said,  huskily,  when  he  had 
finished  reading  the  letter.  "  I  know  the  captain  as 
few  know  him,  and  that  note  will  go  right  to  his 
heart.  Here,  put  it  into  that  envelope  on  the  stand, 
and  seal  it  up.  You  can  mail  it  the  first  time  you 


MR.  BARNES  HAS  A  VISITOR.  5? 

go  up    town,   and  then   we'll    wait    the   captain's 
orders." 

The  next  morning  after  breakfast  Mr.  Barnes 
called  B",rt  to  him,  saying  : 

"  I'm  so  sure  you  will  be  sent  for,  my  lad.  I 
think  you  better  learn  Spanish.  You'll  need  to 
know  it  when  on  the  island  ;  and  then  it  will  give 
me  something  to  do  while  I'm.  lying  here.  Your 
father  and  I  have  been  so  long  among  the  Spaniards 
we  speak  their  language  almost  as  well  as  the  natives 
themselves." 

"  I  shall  be  more  than  glad  to  learn  it  ? "  Bert 
replied,  heartily.  "  What  books  shall  I  get  ? " 

"  Not  a  single  one,  youngster,"  the  sick  man  an- 
swered. "  I'm  going  to  teach  it  to  you  just  as  you 
would  pick  it  up  among  the  Islanders.  All  you 
need  is  a  piece  of  paper  and  a  pencil." 

Mr.  Barnes,  as  already  noticed,  had  received  a 
good  education  in  his  earlier  years,  and  at  one  time 
taught  school.  Years  of  a  seafaring  life  had  ren- 
dered him  careless  in  his  grammar,  and  sprinkled  his 
vocabulary  with  many  nautical  expressions  ;  but  he 
soon  proved  that  he  possessed  an  excellent  knowledge 
of  Spanish,  and  knew  how  to  impart  it  to  another. 

Beginning  with  the  names  of  familiar  objects,  he 
soon  led  his  pupil  to  the  phrases  and  sentences  he 
would  be  most  likely  to  need  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion. Bert  made  surprising  progress  through  the 
weeks  that  followed,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
scholar  and  teacher  were  talking  together  in  what 
Miss  Wheeler  termed  "  the  most  outlandish  lingo  she 
ever  heard." 

But  this  is  anticipation.  "We  must  go  back  to  the 
Saturday  morning  after  Bert's  trip  over  to  Good- 
port,  and  just  a  week  later  than  Mr.  Barnes'  acci- 
dent, when  two  important  incidents  happened. 

The  first  was  the  reception  of  a  cablegram,  tele- 
phoned over  from  Goodport,  It  read  : 


58  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  SAN  JUAN,  POKTO  Kico,  May  21,  1897. 
"  BARXES  : 

"  Message  received.  Praise  the  Lord !  "Will  await 
your  letter,  then  send  you  next  orders.  Give  my 
heart's  best  love  to  my  boy. 

"  LAEKIN." 

The  second  event  was  a  caller  for  Mr.  Barnes,  in 
the  person  of  Mrs.  Thompson,  the  wife  of  the 
grocery  man. 

She  drove  to  the  door  in  a  hack,  that  was  evi- 
dently stuffed  with  pillows  and  blankets,  and  tripping 
airily  up  to  the  front  door  of  the  little  cottage, 
rapped  the  iron  knocker  noisily.  Miss  Wheeler  soon 
appeared,  greeting  the  visitor  courteously. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Wheeler,"  the  caller  said, 
with  an  attempt  to  be  dignified  and  reserved.  "  My 
cousin,  Mr.  John  Barnes,  is  here,  I  believe.  I  Avould 
like  to  see  him." 

"  Certainly,  Mrs  Thompson ;  take  a  seat  in  the 
parlor,  while  I  announce  your  coming." 

"  Oh,  that  isn't  necessary  at  all,"  retorted  the 
merchant's  wife,  haughtily.  "  Cousin  Jack  will  be 
delighted  to  see  me,  and  I've  come  to  take  him 
home  with  me.  I'll  go  right  to  his  room,"  and  she 
brushed  by  her  hostess  into  the  sitting-room,  and 
on  into  the  bedroom  where  the  injured  man  was. 

"  Oh !  dear  Cousin  Jack,"  she  cried,  rushing  up 
to  his  bedside  and  throwing  her  arms  about  his 
neck  and  kissing  him  eifusively.  "  I'm  so  sorry  for 
your  accident,  and  as  soon  as  pa  wrote  me  about  it, 
I  came  right  down  here.  My  carriage  is  at  the 
door,  and  I'll  take  you  out  from  these  miserable 
surroundings  to  a  place  where  you'll  have  light  and 
air  and  good  nursing." 

"  I'm  very  comfortable  where  I  am,  ma'am,"  her 
relative  said  as  soon  as  she  had  released  him  from 
tier  embrace, 


MR.  BARNES  HAS  A  VISITOR.  59 

"  But  pa  informed  me  it  was  your  intention  to 
visit  with  us,  while  you  attended  to  a  few  matters 
of  business  in  the  town  ;  and  I'm  sure  this  is  no 
suitable  place  for  you — where  there  is  only  a  maiden 
lady  and  small  boy  to  care  for  you.  I  have  brought 
crutches  and  pillows,  and  will  call  my  driver,  who 
can  assist  you  to  the  carriage  ;  I'm  sure  you  will  go 
to  my  home  very  comfortably." 

"Are  you  a  fool,  Sarah?"  blurted  out  the  old 
sailor,  with  rising  indignation.  "  Don't  you  know 
my  leg  is  broken,  and  I  can't  be  moved  for  weeks 
yet  ?  Then  I'd  like  to  know  why  this  isn't  a  proper 
place  for  me.  I'll  have  you  understand  that  Captain 
Larkin's  people  are  just  as  good  as  the  Garrisons  or 
Thompsons  ever  were.  There's  one  thing  the 
captain  never  was  known  to  do,  and  that  is  to  dis- 
charge one  of  his  hands — and  he's  got  a  thousand 
of  them — for  helping  a  poor  injured  mortal.  And 
I  never  heard  of  his  boy's  stealing  a  horse  either, 
as  your  youngster  has.  Then  when  it  comes  to 
money,  Captain  Larkin  can  buy  out  all  the  Garri- 
sons and  Thompsons  ever  had,  with  one  year's  in- 
come, and  not  miss  it.  You  haven't  the  sense  you 
were  born  with,  Sarah,  and  that  wasn't  enough  to 
brag  of." 

Now  Mrs.  Thompson  had  come  on  this  visit  hoping 
her  cousin  had  not  heard  of  her  husband's  act, 
though  she  knew  it  was  the  talk  of  the  whole  town ; 
but  in  case  he  did  know  of  it  and  made  any  allusion 
to  it,  she  was  prepared  to  admit  it  was  a  mistake, 
growing  out  of  her  husband's  hasty  temper,  and  one 
of  which  he  had  himself  repented.  In  proof  of  which 
she  could  cite  his  offer  on  the  previous  Monday  to 
give  Bert  his  old  position  in  the  store. 

But  the  sailor's  allusion  to  her  son  as  a  thief 
startled  her.  She  was  aware  that  Sam  was  head- 
strong and  unmanageable,  but  that  he  would  steal 
she  was  not  so  sure.  She  felt,  therefore,  she  must 


80  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

be  on  firmer  ground  before  she  committed  herself, 
and  quickly  decided  that  to  plead  an  entire  igno- 
rance of  both  her  husband's  and  son's  acts  would  be 
the  best  policy.  So,  assuming  an  injured  air,  she 
said  : 

'•  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Cousin  Jack." 

"  Then  Til  tell  you,"  he  responded,  warmly ;  and 
in  a  direct  and  vigorous  way  he  recounted  the  story 
of  Bert's  discharge,  and  of  Sam's  running  off  with 
the  horse  and  buggy  at  Lake  Ilammersley. 

Relieved  to  find  that  her  son's  act  was  nothing 
more  serious,  and  secretly  glad  of  the  discomfiture 
to  which  Bert  had  been  put,  she  remarked : 

"  La,  Cousin  Jack,  that  was  only  one  of  Sam's 
jokes.  He  meant  no  harm  by  it.  And  if,  as  you 
say,  my  husband  discharged  young  Larkin  from  the 
store  for  helping  you,  I  confess  he  was  too  hasty. 
But  likely  as  not  there  was  some  other  reason  for 
his  act,  and  he  has  preferred  to  bear  the  blame 
rather  than  tell  the  true  ground  of  dismissing  the 
boy,  and  so  injuring  him  for  life."  There  was  an 
insinuation  in  her  tones  that  nettled  the  invalid 
more  than  anything  she  had  yet  said. 

"  Humph ! "  he  ejaculated,  wondering  whether 
his  visitor  was  lying,  or  had  herself  been  deceived. 
"  Humph !  That's  neither  here  nor  there.  I'm  go- 
ing to  stay  right  here  till  I'm  well  enough  to  return 
to  Porto  Rico.  So  we'll  let  the  matter  drop." 

"  But  you'll  come  to  see  us,  as  soon  as  you  can 
walk  around,  won't  you,  Cousin  Jack  ?  I'm  sure 
you  won't  entirely  desert  your  own  flesh  and  blood 
for  strangers,  because  of  one  or  two  little  mistakes 
they  may  have  made.  None  of  us,  you  know,  are 
perfect ! "  and  she  was  smiling  very  sweetly  now. 

"  If  I  make  no  promises,  I  sha'n't  break  them," 
answered  Mr.  Barnes,  testily.  "  When  any  one 
steps  on  any  of  Captain  Albert  Larkin's  folks,  they 
step  on  me.  And  when  a  man  would  allow  a  fellow- 


MR.  BARNES  HAS  A  VISITOR.  61 

creature  to  lie  helpless  beside  the  road,  and  not  aid 
him,  he  hasn't  got  much  humanity  in  him,  accord- 
ing to  my  way  of  thinking.  He's  worse  than  some 
Spaniards  that  I  know  of,"  and  he  turned  his  face 
to  the  wall  as  a  hint  for  his  visitor  to  depart. 

When  Mrs.  Thompson  returned  to  her  carriage 
she  was  a  disappointed  wortian.  Her  father's  letter 
had  reached  her  the  evening  before,  telling  her  who 
the  injured  stranger  at  the  vine-clad  cottage  was, 
laying  great  stress  upon  his  supposed  wealth,  and 
urging  her  to  do  all  she  could  to  keep  the  sailor 
from  falling  into  the  clutches  of  a  designing  woman. 

Immediately  Mrs.  Thompson  built  her  own  air- 
castles,  in  which  her  son  Sam  played  the  chief  part 
as  the  favorite  and  possible  heir  of  the  rich  cousin. 
Confidently  she  had  gone  forth  with  the  expectation 
of  bringing  the  injured  man  home  with  her,  or  at 
least  securing  the  promise  from  him  to  come  to  her 
house  as  soon  as  it  would  be  safe  for  him  to  under- 
take the  journey.  But  his  emphatic  denunciation 
of  her  husband  and  son  dashed  every  hope  to  the 
ground. 

It  was  in  a  spirit  of  bitterness,  therefore,  that  she 
met  those  two  members  of  her  family  at  the  supper 
table. 

Describing  her  visit,  and  repeating  the  sailor's 
strong  language,  she  added  : 

"  A  precious  pair  you  are  !  One  of  you,  through 
his  innate  meanness,  has  not  only  gotten  the  ill-will 
of  the  entire  community,  but  lost  trade  enough  to 
ruin  us  ;  while  the  other,  through  his  innate  love  of 
mischief,  has  lost  the  chance  of  a  fortune.  I'm  dis- 
gusted with  both  of  you,  and  hope  I  shall  never  see 
your  faces  again,"  and  she  flounced  out  of  the  room. 

She  was  angry,  and  in  no  sense  meant  what  she 
said,  but  her  last  declaration  came  very  near  being 
true  of  one  of  her  hearers. 


62         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER   X. 

A   MIDNIGHT   ALAKM. 

THE  watchman  at  the  Montville  Wooien  Mills  was 
making  his  usual  midnight  round  of  the  buildings 
under  his  care.  As  he  turned  the  corner  of  the 
office  to  cross  the  yard  to  the  engine  house  a  sudden 
glare  over  on  the  west  side  of  the  village  caught  his 
attention. 

He  stopped  to  watch  it,  and  against  the  dark 
clouds  which  hung  low  down  from  the  sky  he  now 
saw  reflected  one,  t\vo,  three,  a  half  dozen  streams 
of  light. 

"  It's  a  fire,  and  right  over  towards  Boss  Loomis' 
too.  I  must  give  the  alarm,"  he  muttered. 

A  minute  later  the  steam- whistle  in  the  engine 
room  was  sending  forth  a  long,  piercing,  almost  un- 
earthly, shriek. 

It  aroused  the  neighboring  sleepers  ;  men  half 
awake  leaped  from  their  beds,  and  looked  out  of  the 
nearest  windows.  Every  one  who  had  a  western 
aspect  saw  the  glare,  and  throwing  up  the  sash,  put 
out  his  head,  and  screamed : 

"  Fire !  fire  !  " 

The  sextons  of  the  churches  rushed  to  the  towers 
of  the  sacred  edifices  under  their  care,  and  soon  the 
clang  of  bells  mingled  with  the  shrieks  of  the  steam 
whistle.  In  ten  minutes  the  whole  town  was 
aroused. 

Fire  !  fire  !  Clang  !  clang  !  Shriek  !  shriek ! 
Then  steps  hurry  along  the  streets.  With  a  shout 


A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  63 

and  a  clatter  and  a  tinkling  of  bells  the  old  fire 
engine — the  only  one  in  the  village,  and  a  sorry 
affair,  comes  rushing  down  the  main  avenue. 

Where  is  the  fire?  Many,  finding  it  is  some  dis- 
tance from  their  homes,  forget  that  it  is  near  the 
homes  of  others,  and  return  selfishly  to  their  beds. 
Others,  finding  it  alarmingly  near,  hurriedly  dress, 
and  prepare  to  carry  their  valuables  to  a  place  of 
safety.  One  family  awake,  and  are  terrified  to  find 
the  crackling  flames  above  their  own  heads.  It  is 
Thompson's,  the  grocery  man. 

Bareheaded,  scantily  "dressed,  he  and  his  wife  es- 
caped to  the  street ;  the  servant  girl  is  there  before 
them  ;  for  the  moment  Sam,  the  other  inmate  of 
the  house,  is  forgotten. 

Now  the  engine  arrives  ;  a  wild,  shouting,  crowd 
fills  the  yard  ;  the  suction  hose  is  dropped  into  the 
well ;  the  handles  are  manned  :  the  hose-pipe  is  run 
forward,  its  brass  nozzle  turned  towards  the  roaring 
fire  ;  the  order  is  shouted  back  : 

"  Give  way  ! " 

The  handles  rise  and  fall ;  the  hose-pipe  fills,  and 
creeps  and  squirms  like  a  gigantic  snake.  Then  out 
bursts  a  stream  of  Avater  from  the  nozzle,  rises  high 
in  the  air,  and  hisses  upon  the  flames. 

Two  minutes  the  work  continues,  then  some  one, 
running  across  the  yard,  thoughtlessly  steps  upon 
the  hose.  There  is  a  report  like  a  pistol.  The  pipe 
has  burst,  and  the  unfortunate  and  unintentional 
culprit  is  drenched  in  the  gushing  water,  while  the 
stream  playing  on  the  fire  suddenly  ceases.  There 
is  no  spare  hose ;  the  work  of  the  engine  is  over  for 
the  night. 

"  It's  no  use,"  says  the  foreman,  examining  the 
break.  "  It  will  take  an  hour  to  mend  that  hole  ; 
the  house  is  doomed." 

"  I'm  sony,  Mr.  Thompson,"  he  reports  a  moment 
later  to  the  merchant,  who  is  rushing  frantically 


fli  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

here  and  there,  almost  insane  from  the  sudden  ca- 
lamity that  has  come  upon  him  ;  "  but  we  can  do 
nothing  to  save  your  house." 

What  reply  the  groceryman  would  have  made 
was  silenced  forever  by  a  woman's  shriek. 

It  was  Mrs.  Thompson.  Taken  to  a  neighbor's, 
after  her  escape  from  the  building,  and  furnished 
with  clothing,  she  had  now  returned  to  the  scene  of 
the  disaster. 

Glancing  into  every  face  as  she  came,  she  reached 
her  husband's  side  just  as  the  captain  of  the  firemen 
addressed  him. 

"  Sam  !  "  she  gasped.  "  Where's  Sam  ?  Have 
you  seen  anything  of  him?  " 

"  My  God  ! "  the  father  exclaimed,  starting  back 
with  a  look  of  horror  on  his  face.  "  He's  still  in  the 
house !  " 

"  And  I  shall  never  see  him  again,"  screamed  the 
unhappy  mother,  tearing  her  hair.  "  Those  were 
my  last  words  to  him  last  night :  '  I  wish  never  to 
see  your  face  again,'  and  it's  come  true.  But  I  didn't 
mean  it.  Save  my  boy  !  Will  some  one  save  my 
boy!" 

A  hundred  eyes  turned  and  looked  towards  the 
burning  building.  The  whole  front  was  in  flames, 
the  roof  was  one  solid  blaze  ;  it  was  as  much  as  one's 
life  was  worth  to  venture  in  there. 

Yet  one  person  evidently  intended  to  make  the 
trial,  for  a  quiet  voice  asked  : 

"  Where  is  his  room  ?  " 

"  At  the  head  of  the  back  stairs,  next  to  the  ell," 
Mr.  Thompson  hurriedly  answered,  turning  to  see 
who  it  was  that  had  asked  the  question. 

But  already  the  speaker  was  pushing  his  way 
through  the  crowd  towards  the  rear  of  the  house, 
and  he  could  not  tell  who  he  was. 

The  throng  surged  in  the  same  direction,  and  were 
in  time  to  see  a  vouth  dash  through  the  flames  that 


A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  65 

already  roared  above  the  back  door,  and  disappear 
on  the  stairway  that  led  up  from  the  entry.  As  he 
went  the  light  of  the  fire  revealed  his  identity.  In- 
stantly there  was  a  shout : 

"  Bert  Larkin  !     It's  Bert  Larkin !  " 

It  was  indeed  our  young  hero.  Coining  from  the 
extreme  south  part  of  the  village,  he  had  reached 
the  scene  of  the  fire  just  in  time  to  hear  the  mother's 
heart-rending  exclamations.  Immediately  asking  in 
which  part  of  the  house  Sam  slept,  he,  on  hearing 
the  father's  rephr,  determined  to  rescue  the  imper- 
iled lad,  and  before  any  one  could  remonstrate  was 
within  the  doomed  building. 

Fortunately  the  rear  of  the  cottage  Avas  the  freest 
from  the  flames,  and  when  once  up  the  stairway, 
Bert  found  himself  able  to  make  his  way  along  the 
narrow  hallway,  which  separated  the  ell  from  the 
main  body  of  the  house  to  the  door  of  Sam's  room. 
It  was  open  ;  dense  smoke  filled  the  chamber  ;  and 
the  flames  were  bursting  through  the  side  walls. 

Almost  suffocated  the  brave  lad  groped  his  way 
over  to  the  bed  ;  there  lay  young  Thompson,  un- 
conscious ;  while  already  the  fire  was  curling  slowly 
around  the  head-board,  singeing  his  hair,  and  blister- 
ing his  face.  To  all  appearances  he  was  dead. 

Snatching  the  still  form  from  the  couch,  Bert 
dragged  it  across  the  room  and  to  the  hallway. 
There  he  stumbled  and  fell  from  exhaustion  ;  yet 
that  fall  was  his  own  salvation,  and  that  of  the  lad 
whom  he  was  rescuing. 

Directly  across  the  narrow  hallway  was  a  door 
leading  into  the  ell.  As  Bert  plunged  forward  his 
head  struck  this  door,  and  giving  way,  it  let  him 
into  a  room  comparatively  free  from  smoke. 

It  filled  rapidly  from  the  hallway  and  adjacent 

rooms,  it  is  true ;  but  the  brief  breath  of  fresh  air 

the  lad  got  revived  him,  and  rising  to  his  feet,  he 

drew  his  burden  to  the  only  window  in  the  low 

5 


66  •  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

chamber,  at  its  extreme  end,  and  as  yet  untouched 
by  the  tire. 

In  an  instant  the  boy  tore  the  sashes  out,  threw 
open  the  closed  blinds,  and  called  to  the  crowd 
below : 

"  Help  !     Take  this  body  !  " 

It  was  not  over  twelve  feet  to  the  ground,  and  in 
a  moment  four  stalwart  men  caught  the  unconscious 
form,  and  bore  it  to  the  street,  while  Bert,  lowering 
himself  full  length  out  of  the  opening,  held  for  a 
second,  and  then  dropped  to  the  ground,  unhurt. 

Dr.  Russell  was  in  the  throng  of  bystanders,  and, 
as  the  four  men  reached  the  feet  of  the  agonized 
parents  with  their  limp  burden,  he  stooped  clown 
and  placed  his  hand  over  the  boy's  heart. 

"  He  lives  !  "  he  immediately  announced.  "  Move 
back  all  of  you  and  give  the  lad  air.  Some  one 
bring  me  water.  Here,  Thompson,  you  and  your 
wife  chafe  his  limbs,  rubbing  upwards  towards  the 
heart.  It  was  a  close  shave,  as  that  singed  hair 
shows,  but  we  shall  save  him  yet." 

As  for  the  physician  himself  he  was  already  hard 
at  work.  Tearing  away  the  boy's  night  shirt  and 
under  garment,  he  freely  exposed  the  throat  and 
chest.  Then  he  turned  his  patient  onto  his  side  and 
by  gentle  movements  back  and  forth  endeavored  to 
start  the  respiration. 

A  slight  movement  of  the  pallid  lips  a  moment 
later  attracted  his  keen  attention,  and  drawing  a 
small  case  from  a  side  pocket,  he  took  out  a  vial, 
and  placed  a  few  drops  of  its  contents  between  the 
parting  lips. 

There  was  a  gasp,  an  effort  to  swallow  that  ended 
in  success,  and  the  eyes  of  the  lad  opened. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked  faintly. 

"  Here,  that  water,"  the  doctor  called  to  a  man 
who  a  moment  before  had  run  up  with  a  pitcher  of 
the  precious  fluid. 


A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  67 

Pouring  some  into  his  hand  the  physician  bathed 
the  boy's  temples  and  forehead,  and  wet  the  parched 
lips,  saying  gently  : 

"You'll  be  all  right  soon,  Sam;  then  we'll  tell 
you  all  about  it." 

The  lad  seemed  satisfied,  and  closed  his  eyes,  but 
his  breath  came  regularly. 

Watching  him  a  few  minutes,  Dr.  Kussell  said  : 

"  The  only  thing  now  is  to  make  him  comfortable. 
Where  can  we  take  him  ?  " 

"  Right  into  my  house,"  answered  Mr.  Loomis, 
who  lived  but  two  doors  away.  "  And,  Thompson, 
you  and  your  wife  come  too,  and  stay  with  us  until 
you  can  make  your  arrangements  for  a  new  home. 
We  have,  as  you  know,  plenty  of  room." 

This  invitation  was  accepted  and  the  rescued  lad, 
followed  by  his  parents,  was  carried  to  the  kind  and 
thoughtful  neighbor's. 

Absorbed  in  the  care  of  their  child  they  gave 
no  thought  to  his  brave  rescuer.  But  not  so  with 
the  crowd  of  onlookers.  As  the  merchant  and 
his  family  disappeared,  a  dozen  tongues  began  to 
ask: 

"  Bert  Larkin  !  Where  is  he  ?  Was  he  hurt  ? 
Find  him !  " 

Bert,  however,  though  a  silent  and  unnoticed 
witness  of  the  efforts  made  to  restore  Sam,  had  now 
slipped  quietly  away,  and  could  not  be  found. 


68  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTEK  XL 
BERT'S   TWO   PRESENTS. 

IN  the  excitement  attendant  upon  the  Thompson 
fire,  and  the  sympathy  naturally  extended  to  the 
unfortunate  family,  Bert's  heroic  act  was  not  for- 
gotten. Nor  did  the  lad's  magnanimity  in  contrast 
with  the  narrow  and  selfish  spirit  exhibited  by  the 
merchant  pass  unnoticed. 

Singular,  too,  as  it  may  seem,  Bill  Ecclestone  was 
among  the  first  to  notice  this  contrast,  and  to  speak 
of  it.  Meeting  Ned'Loomis  a  few  hours  after  the 
fire,  he  asked : 

"  How's  Sam  ? " 

"  Resting  nicely,"  was  the  reply.  "  The  doctor 
thinks  he'll  be  up  and  around  to-morrow  as  usual." 

"  Mighty  close-  shave  for  him,  though." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  young  Loomis  ;  "  and  lucky  for 
him  too  that  Bert  Larkin  reached  there  just  in  time. 
Who  else  would  have  dared  rescue  him  ?  " 

"I  say,  Ned,"  Ecclestone  suddenly  questioned, 
looking  about  him  to  see  if  any  one  else  was  near 
enough  to  hear,  "  has  Bert  ever  told  you  the  mean 
trick  Sam  and  I  played  on  him  last  week  ?  " 

"  No  ;  what  was  'it  ? " 

With  some  hesitation  the  boy  told  how  Sam  and 
he  had  run  off  with  young  Larkin's  horse,  leaving 
him  to  walk  home  with  his  heavy  load.  He  con- 
cluded : 

"  I  don't  know  what  Sam  will  do  when  he  gets 


BERT'S  TWO  PRESENTS.  69 

out,  but  I'm  ashamed  of  my  part  in  the  affair,  and 
am  going  to  tell  Bert  so  the  first  time  I  see  him." 

"I'd  go  and  tell  him  now,"  suggested  Ned;  then 
he  added  warmly  : 

"  I  tell  you  there  are  few  fellows  like  Bert  Lar- 
kin  !  I  don't  believe  he  stopped  a  single  moment 
to  think  how  Sam  and  his  father  had  used  him, 
when  he  learned  of  Sam's  danger,  but'  just  went 
right  ahead  and  rescued  him  as  though  he  "was  the 
best  friend  he  had  in  all  the  world." 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  assented  Bill,  "and  I've  played 
the  last  mean  trick  on  him  I  ever  shall ;  or  on  any 
one  else,  I  guess,"  and  stirred  by  the  noblest  motives 
of  all  his  life  the  lad  -went  off  to  find  Bert  and 
acknowledge  his  wrong. 

Ned,  in  his  sincere  admiration  for  his  friend  Bert, 
did  not  hesitate  to  tell  of  Bill's  confession,  and  be- 
fore night  the  whole  town  knew  and  were  discussing 
young  Larkin's  heroism  in  the  light  cast  upon  it  by 
the  contemptible  acts  of  both  Thompsons,  the  father 
and  son. 

They  were  in  a  measure  prepared,  therefore,  for 
the  position  taken  by  the  local  paper,  published  a 
little  later  in  the  week  Describing  in  minute  detail 
the  rescue  of  young  Thompson,  it,  with  the  same 
charming  frankness,  told  of  the  rescuer's  summary 
discharge  from  the  grocery  a  week  before,  and  the 
reason  for  it.  It  also  printed  a  full  account  of  the 
dastardly  trick  Sam  Thompson  and  Bill  Ecclestone 
had  played  upon  young  Larkin  only  three  days 
before  the  fire. 

Nor  was  this  all.  In  another  column,  with  glar- 
ing head-lines,  it  reprinted  from  The  Goodport  News 
a  thrilling  account  of  Bert's  brave  act  in  saving  Ella 
Greene  from  the  wheels  of  the  passing  train  : 

Then  it  had  the  following  editorial  : 

"  Seldom  is  it  given  to  so  young  a  lad,  in  a  single 


7o  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

week,  to  reveal  so  much  of  his  real  character  as 
Albert  Larkin,  Jr.,  of  this  village.  On  Saturday, 
May  15th,  as  noted  in  our  last  issue,  he  showed  that 
he  possessed  the  spirit  and  love  of  t}  e  Good  Samar- 
itan by  helping  John  Barnes,  the  unfortunate  sailor, 
who  was  injured  at  Martin's  Brook,  near  Sugar  Loaf 
hill.  On  Wednesday,  the  19th,  as  a  glance  at  an- 
other column  (in  which  we  reprint  an  article  from 
The  Good-port  News)  will  show,  he,  while  in  that  city, 
bravely  rescued  the  little  daughter  of  Hon.  John  T. 
Greene  from  a  passing  train.  Then  on  Saturday 
night,  the  22d,  or  to  be  more  accurate,  early  Sunday 
morning,  the  23d,  he,  with  a  magnanimity  seldom 
paralleled,  risked  his  life  to  save  a  lad,  who,  but  a 
few  days  before,  had  played  a  most  despicable  trick 
upon  him — the  son  of  the  very  merchant  who  had 
within  a  week  unjustly  discharged  him. 

Such  heroism  and  magnanimity  surely  deserve 
some  substantial  recognition  on  the  part  of  our 
town's  people.  The  Journal  suggests  a  handsome 
gold  watch,  suitably  engraved,  as  a  fitting  testi- 
monial, and  starts  the  subscription  with  a  gift  of  ten 
dollars.  All  other  subscriptions  will  be  received  at 
this  office,  and  duly  acknowledged  in  our  columns." 

Before  the  next  issue  of  The  Journal,  however, 
enough  money  had  been  subscribed  to  purchase  a 
costly  time-piece,  and  this  was  sent  to  Bert  on  June 
10th,  his  sixteenth  birthday. 

Mr.  Barnes  looked  over  the  list  of  donors,  and 
then  throwing  down  the  paper  with  a  show  of  dis- 
gust, exclaimed  : 

"  Do  you  notice,  Miss  "Wheeler,  not  one  of  those 
Thompsons,  father,  mother,  or  son,  gave  a  dollar 
towards  the  watch  5" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  grim  reply,  u  and  you  were  a  fool 
to  expect  it.  You  wouldn't,  had  you  known  them  as 
long  as  I  have," 


BERT'S  TWO  PRESENTS.  71 

"  They  lost  a  good  deal  by  the  fire,"  said  Bert, 
who  heard  these  remarks,  apologetically,  "  and  you 
could  hardly  expect  it  of  them.  "  I'm  sure,  however, 
they  are  grateful  for  all  I  did  for  them.'"' 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  them  say  so  ? "  asked  the 
sailor,  sharply. 

"  No,"  thelad  reluctantly  admitted,  "  that  is,  not 
yet." 

"  Well,  they've  had  time  enough,"  remarked  his 
aunt,  dryly  ;  "  and  so  have  those  other  people  over 
at  Goodport.  Seems  to  me  folks  nowadays  lack  the 
very  first  principles  of  true  politeness." 

"  Or  may  be  they  don't  value  their  lives  very 
highly,"  put  in  the  invalid.  "  I  have  heard  of  a  man 
who  gave  the  fellow  that  rescued  him  from  drown- 
ing a  twenty-five-cent  piece.  Maybe  you'll  get  as 
much  as  that  for  the  double  risk  you  ran,  Bert." 

"  I  did  not  try  to  save  either  one  from  any 
thought  of  rewrard,"  the  lad  answered  somewhat 
indignantly  ;  "  and  whether  the  Thompsons  ever 
thank  me  for  what  I  did  for  Sam  makes  little  differ- 
ence. Mr.  Greene  and  Ella  both  thanked  me  for  res- 
cuing her,  and  I  know  I  shall  both  hear  from  and 
see  them  again." 

And  he  was  right  ;  for  the  very  next  day  he  re- 
ceived the  following  prettily  worded  invitation 
from  Miss  Ella  herself : 

"  GOODPORT,  June  11,  1897. 
"  ME.  ALBERT  LARKIN,  JR., 

"  Papa,  says  I  am  to  write  and  ask  you  to  spend 
next  week  Wednesday,  June  16th,  with  us.  We 
shall  expect  you  in  time  for  dinner,  and  to  remain 
over  night.  We  all  shall  be  glad  to  see  you. 

"  Your  friend, 

"  ELLA  F.  GREENE." 

Of  course  Bert  returned  a  favorable  answer,  and 


72  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  following  Wednesday  drove  over  to  Good  port. 
Putting  up  his  horse  at  the  hotel  stable,  he  inquired 
the  way  to  175  Carey  Avenue,  the  Greene  res- 
idence. 

Following  closely  the  directions  given  him  >  he 
soon  came  out  upon  a  broad,  handsome  street, 
beautifully  shaded  with  gigantic  elms.  Along  either 
side  were  houses  that  told  more  of  the  comfort  and 
refinement  to  be  found  within  than  of  any 
great  attempt  towards  outward  show  and  adorn- 
ment. By  these  he  slowly  passed  until  he  reached 
the  desired  number. 

It  was  a  pretty  cottage,  situated  back  a  little 
from  the  street,  with  a  well-kept  lawTn  and  flower- 
beds, while  twin  fountains,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
flagstone  walk,  sent  forth  their  cool  and  sparkling 
waters. 

"With  some  trepidation,  it  must  be  confessed,  the 
lad  went  up  the  path,  and  rang  the  bell.  As  he 
waited  a  clock,  somewhere  within  the  house,  struck 
eleven.  He  counted  the  strokes,  and  was  just  won- 
dering if  he  was  too  early,  when  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  there  stood  Ella  herself. 

"  I  thought  it  was  you,"  she  said  with  a  pretty 
blush,  catching  hold  of  his  extended  hand,  "  and  so 
told  Bridget,  our  girl,  I  would  come  to  the  door. 
And  you  see  I  wasn't  disappointed." 

"  I  think  you  must  have  known  my  ring;  you  are 
so  used  to  it,"  replied  Bert  in  fun. 

"  I  did  know  it,"  she  stoutly  affirmed.  "  It  was 
the  same  short,  quick  pull  you  gave  when  you  freed 
my  foot  from  that  horrid  'rail.  I  should  know  it 
any  time,  whether  you  come  often  or  not." 

She  now  led  the  lad  into  the  parlor,  telling  him 
her  mother  would  be  in  within  a  few  minutes,  and 
her.  father  before  the  dinner  hour,  which  was  at  one. 

"  I  came  very  early  then,  didn't  I  ?  "  said  Bert  in 
some  dismay. 


BERT'S  TWO  PRESENTS.  73 

"Not  one  moment  before  you  were  expected," 
she  answered.  "  Papa  said  he  would  wager  me  a 
new  pair  of  gloves  that  you  would  walk  up  to  the 
door  just  as  the  clock  svas  striking  eleven;  but  I 
looked  for  you  before  that." 

Before  the  boy  could  reply  a  step  was  heard  in 
the  hall,  and  Mrs.  Greene  entered. 

She  greeted  the  lad  with  a  warmth  he  had  not 
anticipated  from  her,  and  as  this  had  been  the  one 
Cc-,use  of  all  his  dread,  he  now  felt  quite  at  his  ease. 

"  I  presume  you  expected  to  hear  from  us  before 
now,  Mr.  Larkin,"  she  said,  when  she  was  seated  in 
a  comfortable  rocker  within  the  bay  window  of  the 
room. 

"  Oh !  no,  ma'am,"  he  hastened  to  protest ;  "  I 
was  not  sure  I  should  hear  from  you  at  all  until  I 
called." 

"  We  were  summoned  to  my  mother's  in  Ohio," 
Mrs.  Greene  explained.  "  St.e  was  taken  critically 
ill,  and  it  was  feared  she  could  not  recover.  That 
accounts  for  our  haste  in  trying  to  catch  the  train 
that  day  you  saved  my  little  daughter,  and  perhaps, 
too,  for  some  of  my  own  irritableness  that  morn- 
ing." 

"I  hope  your  mother  is  better,"  said  Bert 
politely. 

"  Yes,  she  was  out  of  all  danger  before  we  arrived 
at  Cleveland.  But  we  stayed  until  she  was  about 
the  house  again.  In  fact  \ve  did  not  arrive  home 
until  the  tenth,  and  the  next  day  Ella  wrote  to  you." 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  very  good  of  you,"  Bert  an- 
swered, addressing  the  mother,  but  looking  at  the 
daughter  as  though  he  meant  a  portion  of  his  re- 
mark for  her. 

"  You  are  a  very  brave  boy.  We've  heard  some- 
thing about  your  bravery  since  that  day,  too,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Greene,  heartily.  But  to  us  nothing 
can  surpass  the  saving  of  our  "child," 


74  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  mention  it,"  was  the  impul- 
sive reply.  "  I  should  have  been  a  brute  to  have  stood 
there  and  let  the  train  run  over  Ella.  It  was  noth- 
ing more  than  any  one  would  have  done." 

"  Strange,  then,  they  stood  there  and  allowed  you 
to  do  it,  isn't  it  ? "  said  a  new  voice,  and  Mr.  Greene 
came  in. 

His  greeting  was  as  hearty  as  his  wife's  and 
daughter's  had  been ;  and  he  was  soon  chatting 
away  with  the  lad  as  though  they  were  old  friends. 

He  soon  showed,  moreover,  that  he  was  familiar 
not  only  with  the  lad's  history  since  the  memorable 
Wednesday  three  weeks  before  when  they  had  first 
met,  but,  and  what  puzzled  Bert  more,  with  his  his- 
tory from  childhood. 

"  I  presume  you  hope  to  join  your  father  in  Porto 
Rico  before  long,  don't  you  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  for  the  winter  at  least,"  the  boy  ad- 
mitted. Then  he  inquired :  "  Did  you  know  my 
father,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  I  never  saw  him,"  replied  the  lawyer ;  "  but 
I  don't  want  you  to  think  I  was  so  little  interested 
in  you  as  to  leave  you  entirely  out  of  mind  for  the 
last  three  weeks. 

"  I  have  had  good  friends  to  work  for  me,  even  if 
I  was  west,  and  I  know  all  about  your  tramp  from 
Hammersley  Lake ;  all  about  a  certain  fire  in  Mont- 
ville ;  all  about  a  gold  watch  you  have  in  your 
pocket,  a  gift  from  your  townspeople ;  all  about  a 
certain  sailor  lying  disabled  in  your  home,  the  mes- 
senger of  your  father,  who  lives  on  a  large  plantation 
under  the  shadow  of  the  great  Anvil  Mountain  in 
Porto  Rico.  We  lawyers  have  a  way  of  getting  at 
things  that  is  mysterious  to  the  uninitiated,  haven't 
we,  pet?"  and  he  caught  up  his  daughter  in  his 
arms,  and  pinched  her  plump  cheeks. 

She  nodded  her  head  wisely  : 

"  Of  course  we  have,  papa,"  she  answered  ;  "  and 


BERT'S  TWO  PRESENTS.  75 

all  we  have  learned  about  him  was  good,  wasn't  it  ? 
He's  just  the  best  boy  in  all — in  all—  '  and  she 
stopped,  evidently  trying  to  find  a  comparison  large 
enough  to  suit  her. 

"  Montville,"  suggested  her  father,  teasingly. 

"  Montville !  "  she  cried,  indignantly  ;  "he's  better 
than  any  boy  in  Goodport,  or  Cleveland,  or  the 
whole  world,  Papa  Greene,  and  you  know  it." 

"  There,  Bert,  you  see  what  she  thinks  of  you, 
anyway,"  said  Mr.  Greene,  putting  her  down. 

Bert  glanced  at  the  girl  in  a  way  that  said  as 
plainly  as  the  words  could  have  done :  "  And  1  think 
just  as  much  of  her  as  she  does  of  me,"  but  he  only 
remarked : 

"  I  am  very  glad,  sir." 

Dinner  was  now  announced  ;  and  when  that  was 
eaten,  the  lawyer  asked  : 

"  How  would  you  like  a  trip  down  the  harbor 
this  afternoon,  Bert  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  of  anything  I  should  like  better, 
sir,"  he  responded,  enthusiastically. 

"  Then,  mother,  you  and  Ella  may  come  down  to 
Dyer's  Wharf  at  half-past  two,"  said  the  lawyer  to 
his  wife,  "  I'll  take  Bert  down  town  with  me.  I've 
a  few  friends  I  wish  to  introduce  him  to." 

Had  Bert  been  the  governor  of  the  state  he  could 
not  have  received  any  more  attention  than  he  did 
for  the  next  hour.  To  lawyers,  judges,  physicians, 
bankers,  and  city  officials,  he  was  invariably  pre- 
sented : 

"This  is  the  lad  that  so  heroically  saved  my 
daughter  Ella  a  few  weeks  ago,  Albert  Larkin,  Jr., 
son  of  Captain  Albert  Larkin  of  Porto  Rico." 

In  many  cases  the  gentlemen,  after  acknowledging 
the  introduction,  would  say  : 

"'  We  knew  your  father,  sir.  He  was  one  of  the 
best  captains  that  ever  sailed  from  this  port.  Some 
of  the  father  in  the  lad,  eh,  Greene  ?  " 


76  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Pleasant  as  this  was  the  boy  was  glad  when  the 
time  was  up,  and  Mr.  Greene  and  he  met  the  ladies 
at  the  wharf,  and  went  on  board  the  finest  launch 
he  had  ever  seen. 

Then  followed  an  afternoon  and  evening  never  to 
be  forgotten.  In  and  out  among  the  islands  of  the 
harbor  they  glided ;  now  slowly  to  take  in  the 
beautiful  scenery ;  then  at  a  speed  that  rivaled  the 
fleetest  horse.  At  a  great  hotel  away  down  the  bay 
they  took  their  supper,  returning  home  by  moon- 
light. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  thank  you  for  this 
day  of  pleasure,  Mr.  Greene,"  the  grateful  boy  said, 
as  he  was  about  to  be  shown  to  his  room  for  the 
night. 

"  Ella  has  something  she  wants  to  give  you  as  the 
crowning  pleasure  of  the  day  for  us  all,"  said  the 
attorney,  looking  at  his  daughter.  "It  is  to  be 
opened  in  your  room." 

She  took  a  little  package  her  father  handed  her, 
and  walked  over  to  the  lad. 

"  Whenever  you  look  at  this,  think  of  the  girl 
who  prays  every  night  for  God  to  bless  you,"  she 
said,  simply. 

With  a  "  thank  you,"  Bert  followed  his  host  up 
to  the  guest-chamber,  and  when  quite  alone  unwrapt 
the  tiny  .package. 

First,  there  was  a  velvet  case  ;  inside  of  this  there 
was  a  golden  locket,  studded  with  gems.  Touching 
its  spring,  the  cases  flew  open,  revealing  a  face  on 
one  side  and  an  inscription  on  the  other. 

The  face  was  Ella's.     The  inscription  read  : 

"  From  the  girl  whose  life  you  saved,  May  19th,  1897." 


OUTWITTED.  77 


CHAPTEK  XII. 

OUTWITTED. 

BY  the  middle  of  July  Mr.  Barnes  was  able  to 
hobble  around  on  crutches ;  but  before  that  time 
letters  had  been  received  from  Captain  Larkin. 

The  letter  to  the  sailor  was  a  brief  one.  It 
thanked  him  for  his  faithfulness  in  carrying  out  his 
employer's  orders ;  it  contained  a  draft  large  enough 
to  reimburse  him  for  whatever  sums  he  had  already 
expended,  and  to  meet  all  other  expenses  likely  to 
be  incurred  ;  and  it  expressed  a  hope  that  he  would 
be  able  to  sail  for  Porto  Rico  by  the  middle  of 
September,  bringing  the  lad  with  him. 

The  letter  to  Bert  was  longer,  and  disclosed  the 
yearning  love  of  the  fathers  heart. 

"  I  should  come  to  you  by  the  outgoing  steamer, 
my  dear  boy,"  it  read,  "  were  there  any  one  to  leave 
in  charge  of  the  plantation.  Since  this  is  an  impossi- 
bility, 1  have  directed  Jack  to  bring  you  out  to  me. 

"  This,  and  the  other  request  you  made,  are  cheer- 
fully granted.  In  proof  of  it,  I  will  add,  bring  your 
aunt  out  to  the  island  with  you,  if  she  cares  to 
come  ;  if  not,  see  that  some  one  is  secured  to  be  a 
companion  for  her  during  the  months  you  are  ab- 
sent, and  that  she  is  provided  with  every  comfort 
she  desires.  From  this  time  I  shall  send  her  quar- 
terly remittances,  and  she  need  have  no  further 
anxiety  for  her  financial  future. 

"  I  can  hardly  wait  for  your  coming,  my  son. 


78  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Every  day  will  be  a  long  day  until  we  meet.  That 
I  should  have  a  boy,  and  such  a  boy  as  Jack  reports 
you  to  be,  seems  too  good  to  be  true.  I  am  un  worthy 
of  so  great  a  blessing. 

"  You  can  hardly  anticipate  more  in  the  love  of  a 
father,  than  I  in  the  affection  of  a  son  ;  and  we 
will  trust  that  both  of  us  shall  be  spared  many  years 
to  enjoy  each  other's  companionship. 

"  Jack  will  pay  all  your  necessary  expenses,  and 
provide  a  suitable  outfit  for  your  journey  and  so- 
journ  here.      But  you   will   need   a  little  pocket- 
money  of  your  o\vn,  to  do  as  you  please  with.     I 
therefore   enclose  your  allowance  for  two  months, 
July  and  August — a  great  pleasure,  I  assure  you. 
"  In  deepest  love, 
"  Your  father, 

"  ALBERT  LARKIN." 

Glancing  at  the  draft,  after  he  had  read  the  letter, 
Bert  saw  that  it  was  for  two  hundred  dollars.  Call- 
ing his  aunt's  attention  to  the  amount,  he  remarked, 
with  pardonable  pride  : 

u  See,  Aunt  Mary,  that  looks  as  if  father  meant  to 
give  me  one  hundred  dollars  a  month  for  my  own." 

"  What  in  the  world  will  you  do  with  it  ? "  ques- 
tioned the  amazed  woman. 

"  Get  me  a  fast  horse,  and  a  yacht,  and  an  eye- 
glass, and  a  cane,  and  a  pug  dog,  like  all  the  other 
swells,  I  presume,"  the  boy  replied,  mischievously. 

"  Go  'long !  You  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind, 
Bert  Larkin.  You've  too  good  sense  for  that." 

"  I  hope  so,  auntie,"  the  lad  responded,  seriously. 
"  But  I  know  one  thing  I  am  going  to  use  part  of 
the  money  for,  and  that  is  to  give  Jimmie  Hough 
his  sight.  You  know,  Aunt  Mary,  how  his  mother 
worked  and  saved  to  get  the  hundred  dollars  neces- 
sary for  the  operation  which  they  say  will  enable 
the  little  fellow  to  see.  Then  came  the  sickness 


OUTWITTED.  79 

and  death  of  her  other  child,  and  she  had  to  take 
the  money  she'd  saved  to  pay  those  expenses. 
"Well,  I'm  "going  to  give  her  the  hundred  dollars, 
and  Jimmy  can  be  sent  to  the  hospital  at  once." 

"  AVhat  else  are  you  going  to  do,  Bert  ? "  Miss 
"Wheeler  asked,  with  visible  emotion. 

"  Buy  a  present  for  Ella  Greene,"  responded  the 
bov,  laughing  to  conceal  the  flush  that  swept  over 
his  face. 

"  He's  beginning  youn^,  now,  isn't  he,  ma'am  ?  " 
questioned  Mr.  Barnes,  who  had  so  far  been  only  a 
listener  to  the  conversation.  "  Pity  people  couldn't 
be  sensible  as  you  and  I  have  been.  Though,  per- 
haps, had  you  and  I  met  years  ago,  Miss  Wheeler, 
we'd  have  been  as  foolish  as  any  of  them."  And 
Bert  thought  there  was  more  earnestness  than  jest 
in  the  sailor's  tones. 

"  What  if  he  should  marry  Aunt  Mary,"  he  thought ; 
"  they  are  about  of  an  age,  and  he  might  do  a 
great  deal  worse,"  and  he  looked  at  his  aunt,  wait- 
ing with  some  curiosity  to  hear  what  she  should 
say. 

She  colored  considerably  at  Mr.  Barnes'  words, 
but  hastily  answered  : 

"  What  an  idea,  sir  !  You  are  foolish  to  think 
of  it."  Then  she  arose  and  left  the  room  to  hide 
her  embarrassment. 

"  I'm  not  joking,  lad,"  the  cripple  confessed,  as  she 
disappeared.  "  If  we  were  twenty  years  younger, 
or  even  ten,  I  wouldn't  leave  the  States  without 
asking  her  to  join  fortunes  with  me.  But  I'm  only 
an  old  codger  now,  unfit  for  any  woman."  And 
lighting  his  pipe,  he  relapsed  into  his  former  silence. 

"  '  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady,' "  quoted 
Bert,  taking  up  his  hat  and  leaving  the  house  for  a 
walk. 

He  went  towards  the  village,  and  soon  reached  its 
business  street.  Passing  by  the  grocery,  where  only 


80  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

a  short  time  before  he  was  clerk,  he  came  to  the 
green.  Sitting  down  on  one  of  the  benches,  under 
the  shade  of  a  huge  maple,  he  meditated  upon  what 
was  to  him  a  very  pleasant  subject — the  nature  of 
the  present  he  should  select  for  his  girl  friend  over 
at  Goodport. 

"  Of  course  I'll  give  her  my  picture,"  he  solilo- 
quized, "  and  I'll  go  over  to  the  city  to  have  it 
taken.  But  I  want  to  give  her  something  else — 
something  that  will  suggest  our  first  meeting.  "What 
shall  it  be?" 

He  thought  of  a  dozen  things,  but  none  suited  his 
fancy. 

"  I  can  visit  the  stores  when  over  there,"  he  con- 
cluded, "  and  maybe  I'll  see  something  that  will  be 
just  the  thing." 

This  important  decision  once  reached,  he  was 
about  to  rise  and  continue  his  walk,  when  some  one 
called  out : 

"Hello,  Larkin!" 

He  turned,  thinking  he  recognized  the  voice,  and 
sa\v  Sam  Thompson. 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met  since  the  fire, 
and  wondering  what  he  wanted,  Bert  waited  for  him 
to  come  up. 

"  Is  that  old  sailor  able  to  hobble  around  yet  ? " 
he  asked,  sitting  down  on  the  bench. 

"  If  you  mean  Mr.  Barnes,  yes,"  our  hero  replied, 
coldly. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  ma,  and  she'll  invite  him  up  to 
dinner  some  day.  We  are  all  settled  over  in  Parker's 
new  house ;  have  new  furniture,  and  everything 
else  in  bang-up  style.  Pa  groaned  over  everything 
that  was  bought,  but  ma  would  have  it,  and  he  had 
to  give  in.  It  puts  that  cottage  of  yours  in  the 
shade,  I  tell  you.  Wish  we  owned  the  place, 
but  it's  a  little  too  much  for  dad's  pocketbook.  Ma 
says,  '  Get  old  Barnes  up  there,  and  maybe  we  can 


OUTWITTED.  81 

coax  him  to  buy  it  for  us.'  He's  lots  of  money,  and 
can  do  it  just  as  well  as  not. 

"  I  hear  you  are  going  out  to  Porto  Rico  in  the 
fall,  Bert,''  he  rattled  on ;  "  and  I  wish  you'd  get 
Cousin  Jack  to  take  me  along.  He  can  afford  it, 
and  you  and  I'd  get  on  nicely  together.  What  do 
you  say  ? " 

"  I  might  mention  it  to  Mr.  Barnes,"  his  compan- 
ion suggested ;  but  he  did  not  think  it  wise  to  add 
that  he  already  knew  what  the  sailor  would  say  to 
the  proposition. 

"  That's  a  good  fellow  ! "  Sam  exclaimed,  patron- 
izingly ;  "  and  though  I  wouldn't  tell  every  one,  I'll 
tell  you  what  we  are  up  to.  Ma  and  me  thought 
out  the  scheme.  Only  get  Cousin  Jack  to  take  me 
along  to  the  island  with  him,  and  likely  as  not  he'll 
grow  so  fond  of  me  he'll  make  me  his  heir." 

"  What  if  he  should  get  married  ? "  suggested 
Bert,  jocosely. 

"You  don't  suppose  he  will,  do  you?"  asked 
young  Thompson  in  alarm.  "  Ma  thought  of  that 
-  that  he  might  fall  in  love  with  your  aunt,  while 
she  was  nursing  him  ;  that's  why  she  wanted  to  move 
him  up  to  our  house.  But  I  told  her  he  wouldn't 
think  of  marrying  any  one  as  old  and  as  poor  as 
your  Aunt  Mary,  and  she  concluded  I  was  right." 

His  comrade  wisely  made  no  reply  ;  but  secretly 
concluded  the  very  thing  the  Thompsons  feared 
might  happen. 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  another  thing — it's  a  part 
of  the  plan,"  said  the  chatterer,  growing  more  con- 
fidential. "  If  I  can  only  contrive  some  way  to  do 
Cousin  Jack  a  great  favor,  as  you  did  when  you 
picked  him  up  by  the  turnpike,  why  I'd  just  win  his 
gratitude.  It'll  come,  too,  don't  you  forget  it.  I've  an 
idea  I  shall  work  out  before  he's  off  for  Porto  Rico.' 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Bert,  innocently. 

"It's  my  secret,"  replied  Thompson,  compla- 
6 


gg  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

cently  ;  "  not  even  ma  knows  of  it.  But  you'll  hear 
of  it.  The  papers  will  publish  it,  as  they  did  all 
those  nice  things  about  you  ;  and  if  the  people  don't 
give  me  a  watch,  probably  Cousin  Jack  will,  he'll 
be  so  grateful.  See !  "  and  he  arose  and  strutted 
away  down  the  street,  pompously. 

As  Mr.  Barnes  grew  stronger  he  began  to  take 
walks  uptown,  and  finally  got  so  he  went  as  far  as 
the  public  square.  Sitting  sometimes  on  a  bench, 
and  sometimes  on  the  steps  of  one  of  the  churches 
that  faced  the  green,  he  would  rest  himself  before 
returning  home. 

One  August  afternoon  he  sat  resting  there.  It 
was  warm,  and  more  tired  than  usual  he  dropped 
off  into  a  doze.  From  this  he  was  rudely  awakened 
by  some  one  snatching  his  crutches,  and  he  looked 
around  just  in  time  to  see  an  unknown  lad  making 
off  with  the  sticks.  The  boy  disappeared  around  the 
nearest  corner  before  he  could  do,  or  say,  anything, 
and  for  a  few  minutes  he  sat  there  helpless. 

Then  another  youth  came  running  around  the 
same  corner  with  the  crutches  in  his  arms.  Hastily 
approaching  the  sailor,  he  offered  him  his  indispen- 
sable supports,  saying  : 

"I  was  just  in  time,  Mr.  Barnes,  to  catch  the 
fellow  who  stole  your  sticks,  and  after  a  tussle  se- 
cured them  and  brought  them  back  to  you,"  and  he 
puffed  as  though  quite  out  of  breath  from  his  efforts. 

"  Thank  ye  !  thank  ye  !  Here's  a  dollar  for  your 
trouble,"  said  the  lame  man,  taking  out  his  wallet. 
"  I  can't  see  what  that  young  rascal  wanted  to  bother 
a  helpless  man  like  me  for.  But  your  kindness  does 
you  credit.  May  I  ask  your  name  ?  " 

"  Sam  Thompson,  your  cousin's  only  son,"  the  boy 
answered,  pocketing  the  bill  given  him  with  alacrity. 

"  Oh  !  "  ejaculated  the  sailor,  looking  searchingly 
at  the  youngster ;  but  if  any  suspicion  as  to  the 
genuineness  of  the  lad's  kindness  crossed  his  mind  he 


OUTWITTED.  83 

did  not  show  it.  On  the  other  hand,  his  next  words 
seemed  to  indicate  a  still  heartier  appreciation  of  the 
boy's  act. 

"  I'm  glad  Cousin  Sarah  has  such  a  thoughtful  son  ; 
tell  her  I  told  you  so,"  he  said. 

"  Thank  you,  Cousin  Jack,"  Sam  replied,  politely  ; 
"  it's  kind  of  you,  I'm  sure,"  but  he  acted  uneasy  and 
as  though  he  was  anxious  to  get  away. 

"  "Will  you  carry  this  stick  for  me  as  far  as  the 
street,  and  let  me  rest  one  hand  on  your  shoulder  ? " 
Mr.  Barnes  now  asked,  smilingly.  "  I  want  to  see 
if  I  can  go  on  one  crutch." 

Unwittingly  Sam  fell  into  the  trap  his  cousin  was 
setting  for  him. 

He  took  the  crutch  indicated  under  his  left  arm, 
placed  himself  so  the  lame  man  could  put  one  hand 
on  his  right  shoulder,  and  then  walked  slowly  by  his 
side  as  he  hobbled  along. 

Their  course  took  them  near  the  street  corner 
which  Sam  had  just  turned. 

"  I  believe  I  can  go  a  little  farther  with  your  help, 
Sam,"  Mr.  Barnes  remarked,  as  they  reached  the 
street ;  and  they  went  on  to  the  next  crossing. 

"  I'll  get  over  to  the  other  sidewalk,  and  then  you 
can  give  me  the  other  stick,"  he  now  said. 

This  brought  them  within  three  feet  of  the  spot 
towards  "which  the  sailor's  ruse  had  been  steadily 
leading  them. 

"  Now  the  crutch,  youngster ; "  there  was  a 
change  in  Mr.  Barnes'  tones,  but  the  unsuspecting 
lad  did  not  notice  it,  and  surrendered  the  support 
he  was  carrying. 

The  next  instant,  and  with  a  speed  that  no  one 
would  have  thought  possible,  the  cripple  whirled 
around  the  corner. 

lie  was  in  time  to  catch  and  collar  the  boy  who 
was  standing  there,  waiting  for  young  Thompson's 
return, 


84  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  Let  me  go  !  I  meant  no  harm,  sir !  Sam  said 
he'd  give  me  a  half-dollar  to  do  it,  and  I  \vas  wait- 
ing for  the  money,"  whined  the  captured  culprit. 

8am,  too  dazed  for  a  moment  by  this  sudden  turn 
in  the  affair  to  run  away  or  to  talk,  finally  blurted 
out: 

"  He  lies !     I  never  made  any  bargain  with  him." 

"Strange  he  should  be  Availing  here,  and  run  the 
risk  of  being  caught,  now  isn't  it,"  remarked  the 
sailor,  dryly.  ""Well,  you  can  give  him  that  dollar 
I  gave  you." 

There  was  a  sternness  in  Mr.  Barnes'  voice  that 
admitted  of  no  trifling,  and  reluctantly  Sam  sur- 
rendered the  bill  to  the  other  lad. 

"  That  is  for  your  exposure  of  the  real  culprit," 
said  the  cripple  to  the  boy  he  still  held.  Then  to 
young  Thompson  he  added :  "  Now  pay  him  the 
half-dollar  you  promised  him ;  he  did  his  work  well, 
and  is  entitled  to  his  pay." 

Even  more  reluctantly  than  he  had  yielded  up 
the  dollar,  Sam  took  two  quarters  from  his  pocket 
and  handed  them  over  to  his  employee. 

"  You  may  go,  but  never  get  into  such  a  scrape 
again,"  advised  the  sailor,  releasing  his  hold  on  the 
lad. 

"  I  won't,  sir,"  promised  the  boy,  running  down 
the  street. 

Then  Mr.  Barnes  turned  his  full  attention  to  Sam. 

"  A  pretty  little  affair,  wasn't  it  ? "  he  asked  with 
withering  sarcasm.  "  Thought  you'd  play  the  part 
of  a  public  benefactor,  didn't  ye  ?  wanted  to  get 
your  name  in  the  papers — to  pose  as  a  hero  ?  A 
nice  little  scheme,  and  it's  too  bad  to  disappoint  you 
so  I'll  go  around  to  the  news  office,  and  report  the 
matter  myself.  Good  day,  sir ! "  and  he  was  as 
good  as  his  word.  The  whole  story  was  given  in 
the  next  issue  of  The  Journal  but  somehow  neither 
one  of  the  Thompson  family  was  satisfied  with  it. 


ALONE  ON  THE  SEA.  85 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ALONE     ON     THE     SEA. 

IT  was  finally  decided  that  Mr.  Barnes  and  Bert 
should  sail  from  New  York  city,  September  15th, 
on  the  steamer  Alhambra,  for  San  Juan. 

"  I  shall  be  able  by  that  time  to  walk  with  only  a 
cane  to  lean  upon,  and  with  your  help  now  and 
then,  lad,  can  get  along  nicely,"  the  sailor  said. 

"  I  wish  Aunt  Mary  would  go  along  too,"  the  boy 
remarked,  wistfully.  "  I  hate  to  leave  her  here." 

"  Now  don't  you  go  to  worrying  about  me,"  pro- 
tested Miss  Wheeler.  "  Of  course  I'm  going  to 
miss  you  awfully  ;  but  Sue  Brad  dock  is  glad  of  the 
home,  and  is  coming  here  to  stay  while  you  are 
gone.  As  for  me,  at  my  time  of  life,  sailing  the 
seas  and  visiting  tropical  lands,  I  just  won't  do  it, 
and  that's  the  end  of  it,"  and  no  amount  of  per- 
suasion could  change  her  decision. 

About  the  first  of  the  month  both  of  our  prospec- 
tive travelers  visited  Goodport  for  a  few  days. 
Mr.  Barnes  desired  to  select  their  outfits  for  their 
journey ;  white  Bert  was  anxious  to  call  again  upon 
his  friends  on  Carey  Avenue. 

The  problem  of  a  gift  to  Miss  Ella  was  as  yet  un- 
settled, and  he  hoped  in  the  stores  of  the  enter- 
prising city  to  find  its  solution  ;  and  the  intricate 
question  was  settled  quickly  and  in  an  entirely  un- 
expected way. 

The  lad  was  passing  an  art  store  on  the  main 
street,  the  very  day  of  their  arrival  in  the  city, 


86  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

when  his  attention  was  attracted  to  a  picture  in  one 
of  its  windows. 

It  was  a  good-sized  painting,  entitled  "  The 
Broken  Shoe."  The  scene  was  an  humble  shoe- 
maker's shop,  and  in  the  background  were  the  bench 
and  tools  of  the  artisan  ;  while  in  front  stood  two 
figures — a  young  lad,  evidently  an  apprentice,  with 
apron  and  turban  on ;  and  a  young  girl,  a  prospec- 
tive customer. 

In  the  boy's  hand  was  a  shoe,  which  the  girl  had 
just  handed  to  him,  and  her  face  asked  plainly  the 
question  :  "  Can  it  be  mended  ? "  The  youth's  face 
was  sober  and  perplexed,  as  though  he  had  met 
with  a  difficult  case. 

But  there  were  other  and  more  striking  features 
about  the  picture  which  settled  the  question  of  its 
purchase  with  Bert.  The  face  of  the  girl  bore  a 
marked  resemblance  to  Ella  Greene  ;  the  face  of  the 
lad  was  a  good  portrait  of  himself ;  while  the  shoe 
was  broken  in  almost  the  identical  way  and  place 
that  Ella's  had  been  cut  on  that  memorable  morning 
in  May. 

Stepping  into  the  store  Bert  found  the  price  of 
the  painting  was  within  his  means,  and  purchasing 
it,  he  directed  that  it  should  be  packed,  and  held 
subject  to  his  order. 

On  his  last  call  at  the  Greene  cottage,  he  said  to 
Ella: 

"  I  saw  a  picture  the  other  day  that  reminded 
me  of  the  circumstances  under  which  AVC  first  met, 
and  I've  taken  the  liberty  to  have  it  sent  up  to  you. 
I  hope  you  will  be  as  pleased  with  it  as  I  was,  and 
that  it  will  help  you  to  keep  me  in  mind  during  the 
long  months  of  my  absence." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  have  any  trouble  to  re- 
member you,"  she  replied  earnestly  ;  "  but  I  know  I 
shall  like  your  gift." 

It  was  hard  to  part  with  these  friends,  and  had 


ALONE  ON  THE  SEA.  87 

not  Mr.  Barnes  been  there  also,  Bert  would  surely 
have  given  way  to  his  emotion.  As  it  was  he  hero- 
ically controlled  himself,  and  only  the  parting  grasp 
of  the  hand  he  gave  each  member  of  the  family  told 
of  the  depth  of  his  feeling. 

His  parting  with  his  Aunt  Mary  was  harder  yet. 
She  had  been  the  only  mother  he  had  known,  and 
he  was  not  ashamed  to  shed  tears  as  he  bade  her 
good-by. 

Mr.  Barnes,  who  had  turned  his  back  on  this  fare- 
well scene,  doubtless  to  hide  his  own  emotion, 
stopped  to  have  the  last  word  with  Miss  Wheeler, 
as  the  lad,  bag  in  hand,  went  out  to  the  waiting 
carriage. 

What  he  said  to  her  only  they  two  ever  knew. 
He  was,  however,  in  the  best  of  spirits  from  that 
brief  interview.  He  whistled  softly  to  himself  the 
air  of  an  old  love-tune  during  their  long  ride  over  to 
the  Flanders  station  ;  and  but  once  broke  in  on  the 
silence  of  the  boy  who  sat  by  his  side. 

"  I  tell  you,  Bert,"  he  remarked  suddenly,  "  when 
you  come 'back  to  the  States  next  spring  I'm  coming 
,  Avith  you." 

He  and  the  lad  both  knew  that  old  line  of  Burns' : 

"  The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  an'  men 
Gang  aft  agley." 

Yet  neither  of  them  imagined  the  future  that  was 
in  store  for  them ;  or  what  was  to  happen  ere  they 
again,  looked  upon  the  familiar  sights  and  scenes  of 
Montville. 

Their  journey  to  New  York  had  been  arranged 
some  days  before  the  sailing  of  their  steamer,  as  the 
last  letter  of  Captain  Larkin  had  brought  Mr.  Barnes 
some  extensive  orders  for  machinery  and  goods 
to  be  shipped  to  the  island  for  use  on  the  plan- 
tation. 


88  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

In  the  making  of  these  purchases  the  old  sailor 
found  Bert  of  great  assistance,  and  frequently  re- 
marked : 

"  Why,  youngster,  when  you  come  back  to  the 
States  you  can  act  as  your  father's  purchasing  agent. 
You  would  do  well  enough,  and  it  would  be  a 
mighty  big  saving  on  commissions  too.  I  shall  tell 
the  captain  so."' 

The  goods  once  purchased,  there  was  ample  time 
for  the  man  and  boy  to  take  in  the  chief  sights  of 
the  metropolis.  Mr.  Barnes  was  as  delighted  as  the 
lad  himself  to  see  these  things,  and  often  commented 
on  the  growth  and  changes  in  the  city  since  he  had 
visited  it  more  than  sixteen  years  before. 

But  the  time  of  their  waiting  soon  ran  out,  and  on 
a  beautiful  afternoon  in  the  fairest  of  all  the  fall 
months,  they  found  themselves  standing  on  the 
steamer's  deck,  as  she  rapidly  plowed  her  way  to 
sea. 

For  two  days  the  weather  was  delightful,  but  as 
the  third  morning  dawned  there  was  a  thick  haze  in 
the  southeast,  and  before  noon  the  sky  was  over- 
cast. The  wind  also  steadily  increased,  and  at  dark 
was  blowing  a  gale. 

"  It's  going  to  be  a  nasty  night,  lad,"  Mr.  Barnes 
remarked,  as  after  supper  Bert  helped  him  to  his 
stateroom ;  an  act  that  had  become  necessary  from 
the  heavy  rolling  of  the  steamer. 

Once  in  his  berth  he  added : 

"  Fortunately  we  have  a 'new  and  staunch  vessel 
under  our  feet,  and  it  will  have  to  be  a  regular  hur- 
ricane that  drives  her  from  her  course." 

"  I  believe  I'll  go  on  deck  for  a  while,"  Bert  said. 
"  It's  not  yet  too  rough  for  me,  and  I  rather  enjoy 
the  storm." 

"  All  right,"  his  companion  assented.  "  Guess 
you  have  some  of  the  sailor  in  you,  if  this  is  your 
first  voyage.  "Well,  if  both  of  my  limbs  were  as 


ALONE  ON  THE  SEA.  89 

strong  as  they  once  were,  I'd  go  with  you.  As  it  is, 
I  reckon  I'd  better  stay  here. 

Ascending  to  the  deck,  Bert  found  the  storm  had 
materially  increased  in  the  short  time  he  had  been 
below.  Great  waves  were  now  dashing  over  the 
ship's  bow  ;  the  wind  blew  with  a  force  that  made  it 
difficult  to  keep  one's  feet ;  while  the  groaning  and 
tossing  of  the  steamer  seemed  not  unlike  a  great 
monster  screaming  and  writhing  in  pain. 

Working  his  way  around  to  the  lea  of  the  cabin, 
the  lad  took  a  firm  hold  on  the  adjacent  rail,  and 
looked  about  him. 

It  was  too  dark  to  see  more  than  a  dozen  feet 
away ;  evidently,  however,  he  was  the  only  passen- 
ger who  had  ventured  on  deck,  and  officers  and 
crew  were  too  busy  to  notice  him. 

There  was  a  fascination  for  him  in  the  tempest, 
and  he  remained  thereuntil  a  sudden  gust  of  the  wind 
brought  with  it  a  deluge  of  water  that  drenched  him 
from  head  to  feet. 

Shaking  the  water  off,  he  crawled  along  to  the 
cabin  door,  and,  opening  it  with  difficulty,  descended 
to  the  saloon. 

Hurrying  on  to  his  stateroom,  he  found  Mr.  Barnes 
still  awake,  and,  while  changing  his  clothing,  told 
him  of  his  adventure. 

His  description  of  the  gale,  and  especially  of  his 
impromptu  ducking,  amused  his  room-mate  greatly. 

"  I've  been  through  similar  experiences  hundreds 
of  times,  lad,  and  thought  nothing  of  it.  It's  the 
novelty  which  makes  it  so  fascinating  to  you.  But 
when  you  get  your  dry  clothing  on,  you  better  turn 
in,  and  get  what  sleep  you  can.  Likely  'twon't  be 
much." 

But  he  was  wrong.  In  ten  minutes  after  the  lad 
crawled  into  his  bunk  he  was  fast  asleep,  and  slept 
soundly  until  there  came  a  shock  that  threw  him 
from  hjs  berth  clear  across  the  tiny  room.  Scarcely 


90         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

had  he  struck  the  floor  when  Mr.  Barnes  landed  on 
top  of  him,  and  it  took  them  some  minutes,  under 
the  lurching  of  the  craft,  to  regain  their  feet. 

"  We've  run  ashore  somewhere !  "  exclaimed  Bert, 
holding  himself  upright  by  his  berth. 

"  Xo,  it's  a  collision,"  answered  Mr.  Barnes,  "and 
there's  serious  damage  done.  "  Dress  as  soon  as 
you  can,  buckle  that  life-belt  I  provided  under 
your  armpits.  Then  help  me  into  the  saloon,  or 
possibly  out  on  to  the  deck." 

It  was  not  long  before  they  were  ready,  and  went 
out  into  the  cabin.  All  was  confusion  there.  Half- 
dressed  passengers  were  rushing  to  and  fro ;  frantic 
cries  filled  the  room  ;  an  officer  and  two  stalwart 
sailors  stood  guard  at  the  companion-way  ;  no  one 
was  allowed  on  deck. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  cool  and  collected ;  and  the  lad, 
though  his  face  was  a  trifle  pale,  remained  calmly 
by  his  companion's  side. 

"  My  impression  is  \v>e  are  sinking,"  the  old  sea- 
man said  in  low  tones  to  the  boy.  "  Let  us  get  orer 
by  the  gangway,  we  may  find  out  something  from 
the  officer." 

It  was  not  an.  easy  thing  to  push  their  way 
through  the  terrified  throng,  but  they  at  length, 
succeeded,  and  Mr.  Barnes  was  able  to  say  to  the 
mate  in  charge  of  the  passage-way  : 

"  Bad  accident,  ain't  it,  Mr.  Bellows  ?  " 

The  man.  recognized  the  speaker,  and  replied 
quietly : 

"  We  fear  it  is,  Mr.  Barnes,  and  are  preparing  for 
the  worst.  Fortunately  morning  is  close  at  hand,  and 
there  is  not  as  much  sea  as  there  was  two  hours  ago." 

"  Could  you  make  out  the  other  vessel,  sir  ? " 
was  the  old  sailor's  next  question. 

"Yes,  sir;  she  was  a  lar^e  schooner,  heavily 
laden,  and  must  have  been  injured  worse  than  we 
are,  for  she  sank  at  once." 


ALONE  ON  THE  SEA.  91 

"  You  know  ho\v  it  is  yourself,  sir,  in  a  dense 
fog,"  he  continued  ;  "  we  couldn't  see  ten  feet  away, 
and  though  our  lights  were  up,  and  we  kept  the 
whistle  going,  the  other  vessel  must  have  miscalcu- 
lated our  position,  and  crashed  into  us  without  a 
moment's  warning.  The  heavy  sea  shook  her  off, 
and  the  wind  carried  her  clear  of  us  before  she  sank, 
else  she'd  have  carried  us  down." 

What  more  he  might  have  said  was  cut  off  by 
an  order  from  the  deck. 

"Life-boats  are  ready,  Mr..  Bellows;  pass  the 
women  and  children  up  first." 

To  the  credit  of  the  men  this  command  was 
obeyed  without  the  slightest  outbreak. 

"  Now  there,  men  ;  don't  crowd  ;  there  is  plenty  of 
time,  and  plenty  of  boats,"  announced  the  officer  in 
charge. 

His  words  prevented  disorder,  and  soon  all  were 
on  the  deck.  It  was  still  very  dark,  but  as  rapidly 
as  possible  the  passengers  were  lowered  into  a  boat 
from  the  lee  side  of  the  sinking  steamer. 

When  one  boat  was  full,  it  was  cast  off,  and  an- 
other took  its  place.  Officers  and  crew  were  under 

good  control,  and  the  work  went  on   rapidly  and 

11 
orderly. 

"  I'm  a  sailor,  and  this  lad  is  a  sailor's  son,  we'll 
wait  until  the  last  boat,"  Mr.  Barnes  said  proudly  to 
the  mate  who  had  called  them  to  enter  the  first  boat 
loaded  entirely  with  men. 

His  wish  was  respected  ;  but  in  a  few  minutes  the 
fourth  and  last  boat  was  ready  for  its  occupants.  Mr. 
Barnes,  on  account  of  his  lameness,  was  among  the 
first  assisted  into  the  yawl,  and  Bert  immediately 
followed. 

There  were  only  seven  passengers  now,  but  ten 
of  the  steamer's  crew,  and  her  captain,  who  was  the 
to  leave  the  last  vessel,  made  a  large  load  for  the  yawl. 
All  had  entered  the  boat,  however,  and  the  officer 


92  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

had  given  the  order  to  cast  off,  when  the  sinking 
vessel  lurched,  and  rolled  to  the  starboard. 

The  bowman  of  the  yawl  saw  the  movement,  and 
raised  his  knife  to  sever  the  line  that  bound  the  light 
craft  to  the  ship,  but  he  was  too  late.  The  steamer 
suddenly  tipped,  her  stern  went  up,  her  bow  went 
down,  and  she  disappeared  beneath  the  rolling 
waves,  dragging  the  small  boat,  now  capsized,  in  her 
wake. 

The  life-preserver,  fastened  below  his  arms,  kept 
Bert  from  sinking  when  he  was  plunged  into  the 
sea,  and  a  gigantic  wave  that  swept  up  behind  him 
at  the  same  moment  carried  him  beyond  the  suction 
of  the  foundering  ship.  A  minute  or  two  later  he 
fell  in  with  a  piece  of  wreckage  large  enough  to 
sustain  him,  and  crawled  out  upon  it. 

Knowing  that  Mr.  Barnes  had  on  a  life-belt  sim- 
ilar to  his  own,  he  glanced  about  him,  hoping  to 
discover  his  friend.  But  neither  the  old  sailor,  nor 
any  other  of  the  late  occupants  of  the  yawl,  were  in 
sight,  and  with  a  despairing  heart  the  lad  concluded 
that  he  only  had  survived  the  capsizing  of  the  boat, 
and  was  now  alone  upon  the  raging  sea. 


THE  ISLAND  PRISON.  93 


CHAPTEK  XIY. 

THE     ISLAND     PRISON. 

PERHAPS  one  of  the  greatest  of  natural  phenomena 
is  the  Gulf  Stream.  This,  as  is  now  generally  ad- 
mitted, is  a  river  in  the  ocean. 

It  has  its  origin  someAvherein  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  flows  through  the  strait  of  Florida  into  the 
Atlantic  Ocean ;  then  turning  to  the  left — no  one 
knows  why — it  flows  north  and  northeasterly  along 
our  coast. 

There  are  no  islands  directly  in  this  mysterious 
stream,  but  many  lie  to  the  right  and  left  of  it,  the 
most  important  of  which  is  the  Bahama  group. 

In  fact,  beginning  with  the  Great  Bahama,  off  the 
eastern  coast  of  the  state  of  Florida,  and  running  in 
a  southeasterly  direction,  there  is  a  continuous  string 
of  islands  stretching  for  more  than  one  thousand 
miles  ;  and  so  numerous  are  they  that  one  of  our 
well-known  historians  has  said  : 

"  It  was  possible  for  Columbus  to  have  landed  on 
one  of  thirty-six  islands,  six  hundred  and  eighty- 
seven  cays,  and  two  thousand  four  hundred  and 
fourteen  rocky  islets." 

When,  therefore,  our  young  hero  found  himself 
clinging  to  a  portion  of  the  wreck  upon  the  tempest- 
uous sea,  it  was  only  a  question  of  endurance — the 
ability  to  hold  on  and  hold  out — before  he  would 
in  the  nature  of  events  drift  upon  one  of  those 
tropical  islands. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  ;  morning  came  and  with 


94          A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

it  the  cessation  of  the  storm  ;  the  clouds  broke ;  the 
wind  died  away  ;  and  still  he  floated  on. 

At  the  first  show  of  light  the  lad  had  risen  as  high 
as  possible  out  of  the  dashing  waves,  and  looked 
eagerly  about  him  ;  but  he  saw  only  a  watery  waste. 
Again  and  again  he  repeated  this  act,  always,  how- 
ever, with  the  same  aspect.  At  length,  tired  and 
weak,  he  ceased  these  efforts,  and  drifted  almost  un- 
consciously on. 

Noon  passed,  and  half  the  afternoon ;  he  was 
hungry,  and  weak,  and  hopeless  now.  His  hope 
had  been  to  be  discovered  by  one  of  the  steamer's 
boats,  or  picked  up  by  some  passing  ship.  He  had 
not  thought  of  the  islands,  in  all  probability  not 
many  miles  away  from  the  place  of  the  collision  ; 
but  had  he  thought  of  them  it  is  doubtful  that  he 
would  have  expected  to  reach  one  of  them.  Yet 
such  was  to  be  his  fate. 

It  was  almost  sundown,  when  a  low,  booming 
sound  fell  upon  his  ear.  At  first  it  was  too  low  and 
faint  for  him  to  pay  any  special  attention  to  it;  but 
as  he  floated  on,  it  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  at 
length  seemed  quite  near. 

liaising  his  head,  for  the  first  time,  in  several 
hours,  he  found  himself  but  a  few  rods  from  a  point 
of  land.  He  was  south  of,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
would  have  passed  by,  it.  Gathering  up  all  the 
strength  he  could  muster,  he  plunged  from  his  plank, 
and,  supported  by  his  life-belt,  swam  towards  the 
rocky  headland. 

There  was  current  enough  to  sweep  him  beyond 
it,  notwithstanding  all  his  efforts ;  but  the  same 
eddy  carried  him  on  into  a  little  shallow  cove  just 
beyond  the  point,  and  faint  and  exhausted  he 
crawled  to  the  shore,  and  threw  himself  flat  upon 
the  sand. 

How  long  he  lay  there  he  never  knew.  It  was 
dark  when  he  arose,  and  staggered  to  the  shelter  of 


At  the  first  show  of  light  the  lad  had  risen  as  high  as  possi- 
ble out  of  the  waves,  but  he  saw  only  a  watery  waste. — Page 
y**'  Yankee  Lad's  Pluck. 


THE  ISLAND  PRISON.  95 

some  tall  trees,  not  far  away,  where  he  sank  almost 
immediately  into  a  profound  slumber. 

The  sun  was  up,  sending  its  warm  and  life-giving 
rays  down  upon  him  when  he  awoke.  Stiff  and  sore 
he  got  upon  his  feet,  and  took  a  survey  of  his 
landing-place. 

The  trees  under  which  he  had  passed  the  night 
were  palms  there  were  perhaps  a  dozen  of  them  ;  to 
the  north  of  these  was  an  opening  covered  with — a 
species  of  rank  grass  and  some  flowering  shrubs ; 
while  beyond  he  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sea. 
He  was  then  on  an  islet. 

He  stepped  slowly  along  to  the  point  around  which 
he  had  been  swept  the  night  before.  This  gave  him 
a  view  of  the  ocean-side  of  the  island.  There  was  no 
beach,  the  reef  coming  up  in  a  perpendicular  wall 
from  the  ocean  bed,  fathoms  below. 

On  the  west,  or  land  ward  side,  however,  there  was 
a  gradual  slope  to  the  water,  with  a  wide,  smooth, 
sandy  shore ;  and  as  the  lad  took  in  the  scene  he 
recognized  the  kind  Providence  that  had  watched 
over  him,  and  brought  him  to  the  only  place  on  the 
cay,  where  he  could  have  landed  in  safety. 

But  hunger  and  thirst  were  craving  to  be  satisfied, 
and  to  meet  these  demands  was  his  first  duty. 

"  A  fire  is  the  first  thing,"  he  murmured,  begin- 
ning to  unbuckle  his  life-belt. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  before  the  boy  left  his 
stateroom  after  the  collision,  he  had  been  directed 
by  Mr.  Barnes  to  put  on  the  life-preserver  that  he — 
the  sailor — had  provided,  not  one. of  those  that  are 
to  be  found  under  the  berths  of  every  sea-going 
passenger  steamer.  It  was  one  the  old  seaman  had 
himself  designed  for  just  such  a  disaster  as  had 
befallen  the  Alhambra,  and  with  which  he  had 
furnished  both  the  lad  and  himself. 

In  reality  it  was  a  life-jacket ;  and  was  put  on  as 
any  ordinary  coat.  But  it  was  so  constructed  that 


96  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

when  once  in  its  place  a  row  of  corks  encircled  the 
wearer  just  below  his  arm-pits;  below  this  and  on 
the  inside  of  the  waterproof  garment  were  a  row  of 
pockets,  in  which  were  securely  fastened,  and  so  as 
to  be  practically  water-tight,  a  few  articles  aiiy 
ship  wrecked  person  would  be  likely  to  need. 

Bert  had  himself  helped  to.  put  these  articles  into 
their  snug  cases,  and  his  object  in  removing  the  life- 
belt was  to  get  at  the  contents  of  its  pockets. 

In  a  minute  or  two  his  entire  possessions  lay  on 
the  beach  before  him,  and  few  as  they  were  he 
•would  not,  just  then,  have  accepted  a  'fortune  for 
them. 

There  was  a  huge  clasp  knife,  made  of  the  finest 
steel,  and  both  a  useful  and  formidable  weapon ; 
a  box  of  paraffine  matches  ;  a  package  of  soup-tablets, 
each  one  capable  of  making  a  cupful  of  delicious  and 
strengthening  bouillon  ;  a  collapsing  drinking-cup, 
of  good  size  ;  a  fishing-line  and  several  hooks ;  and 
two  small  purses,  each  containing  fifty  dollars  in 
gold. 

As  the  money  was  of  no  practical  use  under  his 
his  present  circumstances,  he  returned  it  to  the 
pocket  of  the  life-belt  from  which  it  had  been  taken. 
The  other  articles  he  laid  in  a  small  pile  on  the 
discarded  -jacket,  with  the  exception  of  the  knife. 

Opening  this,  he,  with  it  in  his  right  hand,  entered 
the  thick  undergrowth  beyond  the  palms,  and  soon 
cut  quite  a  bundle  of  dry  stuff,  which  he  brought 
back  to  the  beach.  In  another  minute  he  had  set 
the  wood  on  tire  with  a  match  from  the  waterproof 
safe,  and,  as  the  flames  shot  up,  he  remarked  quite 
cheerfully : 

"  Xow  if  I  can  only  find  some  water,  I'll  soon 
have  breakfast." 

But  the  water  was  not  to  be  found  on  the  lower 
portion  of  the  cay  ;  or  as  for  that  matter  anywhere 
in  the  island  as  he  later  ascertained.  There  was, 


THE  ISLAND  PRISON.  97 

therefore,  but  one  thing  for  him  to  do — to  munch 
the  dry  tablets,  and  make  the  best  meal  he  could  in 
that  unpalatable  way.  Though  he  knew  one  tablet 
was  intended  for  a  meal,  he  ate  three  with  a  still 
unsatisfied  appetite. 

"  There,  I  ought  to  get  strength  enough  from  them," 
he  muttered,  "  to  search  a  while  for  something  to 
drink.  But  if  I  can't  find  any  water,  I  don't  know 
what  I  shall  do.  I  might  as  well  have  perished  out 
there  at  sea." 

Picking  up  the  articles  he  had  left  on  the  life- 
belt, he  stowed  them  away  in  his  pockets  ;  and  then 
throwing  the  jacket  itself  across  his  arm,  he  started 
up  the  shore,  looking  on  every  side  for  water. 

He  had  not  gone  more  than  half  a  mile  when  he 
reached  the  north  end  of  the  islet,  and  now  found 
that  it  was  separated  from  another  cay  by  a  narrow, 
deep,  strait ;  while  beyond  this  second  island,  which 
was  scarcely  more  than  a  patch  of  sand  covered 
with  seaweed,  was  a  third,  larger  apparently  than 
the  one  he  was  on,  and  covered  with  trees  and  thick 
vegetation. 

"  There  is  nothing  here  to  eat  or  drink,"  he  said 
to  himself.  "  I  will  see  if  I  can  cross  to  that  farther 
island." 

His  clothes  were  not  yet  dry  from  their  long  soak- 
ing of  the  previous  day,  and  stopping,  therefore,  only 
long  enough  to  return  all  his  possessions  to  the 
water-tight  pockets  of  his  life-belt,  he  buckled  that 
on,  and  plunged  into  the  water. 

He  had  not  swam  over  thirty  feet  before  he  was 
able  to  touch  bottom,  and  so  waded  out  upon  the 
sand-bank.  From  there  he  obtained  a  better  viewr 
of  the  northern  island,  and  saw,  not  only  that  it 
greatly  exceeded  both  the  others  in  its  size,  but 
seemed  to  have  all  the  luxuriance  of  the  tropics.  It 
was,  however,  at  least  a  half-mile  over  to  it.  He 
stood  looking  wistfully  at  it  for  some  time. 
7 


98  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  I  guess  I  am  good  even  for  that  swim,"  he  final- 
ly declared ;  "  I'm  sure  there's  food  there  of  some 
kind,  and  maybe  it  is  inhabited.  I  know  many  of 
these  islands  are." 

He  entered  the  water,  and  much  to  his  surprise 
was  able  to  wade  all  the  way  across, — the  water  in 
no  place  exceeding  a  depth  of  four  feet. 

"  Here  is  food  and  a  partial  substitute  for  drink," 
he  ejaculated,  as  he  emerged  from  the  strait,  to  find 
himself  on  a  salt  marsh  containing  innumerable  crabs. 

It  was  easy  to  catch  the  crustaceans,  and,  break- 
ing them  open,  Bert  sucked  the  juice  from  the  raw 
flesh.  Possibly  the  reader  sees  nothing  attractive 
in  this  operation,  but  to  the  thirsting  lad  it  was  a 
delicious  draught ;  and  he  did  not  stop  until  he  had 
disposed  of  the  watery  portion  of  at  least  a  dozen  of 
the  shell  fish. 

His  thirst  partially  quenched  by  this  process,  he 
ventured  further  into  the  island. 

The  first  trees  he  encountered  were,  as  he  after- 
wards learned,  the  mangrove,  so  common  at  the 
estuaries  of  tropical  rivers,  or  on  the  borders  of 
tropical  marshes.  Making  his  way  slowly  through 
the  thick  roots  and  stems  of  these  curious  trees,  he 
soon  came  out  upon  higher  ground. 

His  attention  was  immediately  attracted  towards 
a  grove  of  trees,  about  thirty  feet  high,  only  a  few 
rods  away,  which  were  loaded  with  an  orange-red 
fruit.  Hastening  over  to  them,  he  frightened  away 
a  flock  of  yellow  birds  that  were  making  their  morn- 
ing breakfast  among  the  branches.  The  lower  limbs 
were  not  over  six  feet  high,  and  catching  hold  of 
one,  the  boy  bent  it  down,  and  plucked  some  of  the 
fruit,  saying : 

"  If  the  birds  eat  these,  I  reckon  I  can." 

The  fruit  resembled  somewhat  a  plum,  but  were 
nearly  as  large  as  a  man's  fist.  A  single  bite  proved 
to  him  that  whatever  the  name  of  the  fruit,  it  was 


THE  ISLAND  PRISON.  99 

delicious,  and  he  rapidly  ate  at  least  a  dozen  of  "  the 
plums,"  as  he  called  them. 

In  reality  they  were  mangoes — a  prolific  and 
wholesome  fruit  of  these  islands,  and  highly  prized 
by  the  dwellers  there. 

Still  continuing  his  explorations  he  went  on  up 
the  west  shore  of  the  island.  Passing  through  the 
mango  grove,  which  was  a  large  one,  he  came  upon 
a  patch  of  pineapples,  and  then  upon  nearly  an  acre 
of  banana  plants. 

"It  looks  as  though  I  shan't  starve,"  he  solilo- 
quized; "between  crabs  and  plums  and  bananas  I 
shall  surely  have  enough  to  eat.  If  now  I  can  only 
find  a  spring  of  water  I'm  all  right." 

He  had  not,  however,  exhausted  the  cay.  Before 
he  had  traveled  a  mile  he  had  discovered  groves  of 
cocoanut  palms,  of  oranges,  and  of  lemons.  But  the 
two  things  he  looked  for  and  hoped  for  most,  namely, 
a  stream  of  fresh  water,  and  a  human  habitation, 
were  not  found  when  he  reached  the  northern  end 
of  the  island. 

No  other  islets  were  to  be  seen  in  any  direction, 
and  he  rightly  concluded  that  the  three,  on  all  of 
which  he  had  now  been,  made  up  the  entire  group. 

"  I  must  have  walked  two  miles,"  he  said,  as  he 
rested  under  a  gigantic  palm  ;  "  and  that  must  be 
about  the  length  of  the  island.  I  will  go  back  by  the 
east  shore,  and  so  shall  obtain  some  idea  of  its 
width." 

He  built  a  fire  ;  dried  his  wet  clothing ;  made  an- 
other meal  of  three  soup-tablets,  and  a  half-dozen 
bananas  he  had  brought  along  with  him ;  and 
washed  the  repast  down  with  the  milk  of  a  large 
cocoanut  he  found  under  the  palm  where  he  was 
sitting,  and  which  he  opened  with  his  knife. 

"  I'd  give  a  good  deal  for  a  drink  of  cool  water," 
he  thought ;  "  but  I'm  neither  going  to  starve  or  die 
of  thirst  here  ; "  then  he  resumed  his  journey. 


100  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

He  walked  rapidly  along  the  north  shore  of  the 
c&y  ;  this  was  not  a  point,  but  a  succession  of  small 
bays  or  inlets,  which  finally  terminated  in  a  larger 
promontory,  making  off  from  the  main  island  in  an 
easterly  direction.  i 

Clambering  slowly  up  this,  he  finally  reached  its 
summit.  Then  one  glance  at  the  shore  below  him 
filled  him  with  surprise  and  delight. 

Running  from  the  end  of  the  point  on  which  he 
stood  to  the  south,  and  so  protecting  the  eastern 
side  of  the  islet,  was  a  long  reef.  On  this,  high  out 
of  the  water,  was  a  wreck,  while  just  opposite,  on 
the  beach  which  the  reef  guarded,  were  two  men, 
busily  engaged  in  cooking  their  dinner. 

Dashing  down  the  point,  and  along  the  shore, 
Bert  soon  reached  the  two  men,  who  stopped  from 
their  labors,  and  stared  in  astonishment  at  the  new- 
comer. 

Their  swarthy  complexion  and  manner  of  dress 
showed  they  were  either  Cubans  or  Spaniards,  and 

Erofoundly  thankful  to  Mr.  Barnes  for  having  taught 
im  to  speak  Spanish,  the  lad  said : 

"  Buenos  dias,  senors" — good  day,  sirs. 

"  Buenos  dias,  senor,"  was  the  civil  reply. 

Then  as  clearly  as  he  could  with  the  Spanish  he 
had  mastered  Bert  explained  who  he  was,  and  how 
he  came  to  be  there. 

The  men,  both  of  whom  were  young,  heard  him 
through,  and  then,  pointing  toward  the  wreck,  they 
told  their  story. 

They  were  Cubans — passengers  on  the  schooner 
which  had  gone  on  to  the  reef.  She  had  been  used 
to  run  a  load  of  arms  and  am  munition  into  the  island 
of  Cuba  for  the  use  of  the  insurgents.  Her  load 
once  delivered,  she  sailed  for  the  States,  bringing  the 
two  passengers,  who  were  bearing  special  messages 
to  the  Cuban  Junta  in  Xew  York  city. 

In  the  recent  gale  she  had  been  badly  damaged, 


THE  ISLAND  PRISON.  1Q1 

and  her  captain  washed  overboard  ;  the  cre\v,  fear- 
ing the  vessel  would  sink,  hurriedly  abandoned  her 
— so  hurriedly  in  fact  that  the  two  Cubans,  who  were 
asleep  in  their  staterooms,  had  been  left  behind. 

Clinging  to  the  helpless  craft,  they  had  expected 
any  moment  to  go  down  with  her  ;  but  to  their  joy 
she,  though  water-logged,  kept  afloat,  and  finally 
drifted  upon  the  reef  where  she  was  now  lying. 

This  had  occurred  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and 
before  night  the  storm  had  so  far  abated  the  men 
were  not  only  able  to  reach  the  land,  but  to  bring 
with  them  many  articles  of  food  from  the  stranded 
ship. 

This  long  explanation  ended  in  their  kindly  in- 
viting the  young  American,  first  to  share  in  their 
meal,  and  then  to  make  one  of  their  party  until  all 
could  be  rescued  by  some  passing  vessel. 

Thus  began  an  island  imprisonment,  that,  contrary 
to  the  expectation  of  every  one  of  the  three  cast- 
aways, lasted  through  many  weary  months. 


102  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    SPONGE-GATHEKERS. 

IT  was  not  far  from  twelve  o'clock,  judging  by 
the  position  of  the  sun,  when  Bert  joined  the  Cubans"; 
and  while  they  ate  they  consulted  together  as  to  the 
best  plan  of  stripping  the  wreck. 

The  distance  between  the  shore  and  the  reef  did 
not  exceed  fifty  fathoms,  and  at  low  tide,  as  it  now 
was,  the  water  of  the  lagoon  nowhere  reached  a 
greater  depth  than  four  feet.  For  a  limited  time, 
therefore,  it  would  be  possible  to  bring  the  lighter 
articles  from  the  schooner  to  land  by  wading  back 
and  forth,  in  the  same  way  that  the  two  men  had 
already  secured  the  food  they  were  nowr  eating. 

But  many  of  the  most  needful  things  in  the  vessel 
were  too  heavy  to  be  brought  to  the  beach  by  hand  ; 
and  at  high  tide  the  water  between  the  reef  and  the 
shore  would  be  much  too  deep  for  wading.  The 
problem  therefore  was,  how  to  transport  the  heavier 
articles  from  the  schooner  in  the  most  expeditious 
way. 

It  was  possible,  of  course,  to  make  a  float,  or  raft, 
and  as  the  surface  of  the  lagoon  was  quite  still, 
bring  the  contents  of  the  vessel  over  to  the  beach 
upon  it.  But  this  at  the  best  would  be  a  slow 
process,  and  the  fear  wa.s  that  the  stranded  craft 
might  break  up  before  the  task  was  fully  accom- 
plished. 

"  I  will  go  over  with  you  and  look  at  the  wreck ; 
then  we  can  form  our  plan  of  operations,"  Bert  re- 


THE  SPONGE-GATHERERS.  103 

marked,  when  he  hacl  finished  what  he  always  called 
"  the  squarest  meal  in  all  his  life." 

There  had  been  brought  from  the  schooner  ham, 
canned  tongue,  ship's  biscuit,  crackers,  preserved 
peaches,  coffee,  and  last,  and  to  the  thirsty  lad  in  no 
sense  the  least,  water.  Of  these  the  boy  had  taken  a 
full  share,  and  for  the  first  time  in  thirty -six  hours 
felt  he  had  eaten  enough. 

"  I'm  ready,"  he  said,  stretching  himself  to  his 
full  height,  as  he  arose  to  his  feet,  *'  lead  on  and  I'll 
follow. 

Removing  the  greater  portion  of  their  clothing, 
that  they  might  have  it  dry  on  their  return,  the  two 
men  and  boy  now  waded  over  to  the  vessel.  She 
was  a  schooner  of  about  two  hundred  tons,  painted 
black,  with  a  bright-red  stripe  just  above  her  water- 
line,  and  her  bottom  heavily  copper-plated. 

She  was  lying  with  her  bow  lifted  high  in  the  air, 
and  heeled  over  until  the  rail  of  her  starboard  quar- 
ter was  within  three  feet  of  the  water.  The  main- 
mast was  snapped  off  close  to  the  deck,  and  lay  over 
to  the  starboard  a  complete  wreck  ;  and  the  whole 
vessel  was  tightly  jammed  on  the  reef. 

Quickly  scrambling  on  board,  the  trio  looked  about 
them. 

The  scene  of  devastation  that  met  their  gaze  was 
something  appalling.  The  galley  and  the  cabin 
skylights  were  smashed  in,  the  bulwark  stanchions 
were  started,  and  the  deck  was  littered  with  top 
hamper.  Even  the  wheel  was  twisted  out  of  shape. 

On  account  of  the  schooner  heeling  so  much,  it 
was  with  some  difficulty  that  the  searchers  made 
their  way  below,  and  then  it  was  all  that  they  could 
do  to  keep  their  footing  on  the  slippery  planks  of 
the  gangway. 

The  first  room  they  entered  was  the  main  cabin, 
plainly  furnished  when  at  its  best,  but  now  in  a  state 
of  dreadful  confusion.  The  table  remained  in  its 


104:  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

place,  being  screwed  to  the  floor,  but  everything 
else  was  heaped  on  the  lower  side  of  the  cabin. 
Even  the  lockers  had  been  burst  open  by  the  vio- 
lence of  the  vessel's  heavings. 

They  next  went  into  the  store-room  amidships. 
There  was  less  devastation  here,  and  with  satisfac- 
tion they  beheld  a  supply  of  provisions  ample  for 
their  need  for  weeks  to  come. 

In  the  forecastle,  however,  they  again  found 
things  badly  stove  ;  but  as  there  was  little  there  be- 
side the  crew's  kits,  nothing  of  any  great  value  was 
damaged. 

In  the  cook's  galley  scarcely  a  thing  remained 
in  its  place,  and  stove  and  crockery  were  broken ; 
but  the  pots  and  kettles  and  other  utensils  were  in 
a  condition  for  use,  and  there  was  an  abundance  of 
them. 

In  the  schooner's  hold  there  was  six  feet  of 
water,  but,  as  she  carried  no  cargo,  the  searchers 
gave  that  matter  no  second  thought. 

"  There  is  enough  here  to  yet  up  housekeeping," 
Bert  remarked  in  Spanish  to  his  companions,  when 
their  search  was  finished  ;  "  and  the  first  thing  is  to 
get  it  on  shore." 

He  looked  off  towards  the  island.  Then  he 
clambered  up  to  the  extre.me  end  of  the  bow,  and, 
with  his  eye  on  a  level  with  the  broken  bowsprit, 
glanced  across  to  the  beach. 

Instantly  his  plan  was  formed,  and  as  well  as 
possible,  by  word  and  gesture,  he  made  it  known  to 
the  Cubans. 

"  Let  us  run  a  cable,"  he  said,  "  from  the  bow  of 
the  schooner  to  that  big  tree  under  which  we  ate 
dinner.  It  will  clear  the  water  all  of  ten  feet; 
then  wa'll  rig  a  sling  stout  enough  to  hold  two  or 
three  hundred  pounds'  weight,  and  run  this  truck  to 
the  shore  on  the  same  plan  they  run  a  life-buoy. 
Two  of  us  can  work  here,  the  other  can  receive  the 


THE  SPONGE-GATHERERS.  1Q5 

goods  on  the  beach.  If  we  give  our  cable  a  decline 
of  two  or  three  feet  at  the  shore-end,  the  loaded 
sling  will,  when  once  started,  run  to  the  ishird 
by  its  own  weight;  while  it  will  be  no  trouble  to 
pull  the  unloaded  sling  back." 

It  took  some  time,  owing  to  the  defects  in  Bert's 
Spanish  vocabulary,  to  make  his  plan  intelligible 
to  his  comrades,  but  as  soon  as  it  was  comprehended 
they  enthusiastically  adopted  it.  A  huge  hawser 
was  carried  to  the  shore,  and  firmly  fastened  to  the 
trunk  of  the  large  palm  a  few  feet  from  the  ground. 
Then,  by  the  aid  of  the  schooner's  windlass,  which 
was  still  intact,  the  cable  was  pulled  taut.  On  this 
the  sling  was  adjusted,  and  in  three  hours  all  was 
in  readiness  for  the  transfer  of  the  goods.  To  test 
the  apparatus  a  barrel  of  salt-junk  was  rolled  into 
the  sling,  and  the  pulleys  were  put  in  motion. 
Slowly  the  car  moved  at  first,  but,  gaining  new  im- 
petus with  each  foot  of  descent,  it  finally  went  off 
at  a  rate  which  compelled  the  watchers  to  use  their 
pulley-rope  as  a  brake.  In  two  minutes  the  sling 
with  its  load  reached  the  beach  in  safety,  and  the 
toilers  knew  their  plan  was  a  success. 

They  now  stopped  for  a  cold  lunch  of  canned- 
beef  and  hard-tack.  Then  they  fell  to  work  in  dead 
earnestness.  Bert  and  the  older  Cuban  remained 
on  the  vessel,  while  their  comrade  took  his  station 
on  the  shore  to  unload  the  goods.  With  this  di- 
vision of  labor,  that  did  away  with  all  going  back 
and  forth  to  the  beach,  they  were  able  during  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon  to  land  an  amount  of  stuff  that 
surprised  themselves  ;  and  within  the  next  two  days 
they  had  stripped  the  schooner  of  everything  likely 
to  be  of  use. 

While  removing  the  goods  they  had  made  a  tem- 
porary habitation  for  themselves  by  packing  the 
boxes  and  barrels  sent  ashore  from  the  vessel  into  a 
hollow  square,  and  then  stretching  a  piece  of  can- 


106  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

vas  over  them.  But  the  work  once  finished,  they 
turned  their  first  attention  to  a  more  suitable 
abode. 

Believing  their  sojourn  in  the  island  would  be 
brief,  they  decided  to  construct  their  cabin  of  sail- 
cloth, a  large  amount  of  which  had  been  brought 
from  the  vessel. 

There  were  the  main-sail,  the  fore-sail,  three  jibs, 
two  top-sails,  one  triangular  sheet,  and  a  number  of 
odd  pieces  of  canvas.  These  Avere  all  eyed,  and 
there  was  much  rope  and  seizing-stuff. 

When  this  had  been  sorted  out  and  measured,  two 
trees,  twenty  feet  apart,  were  selected  as  the  corner 
posts  for  the  first  side  of  the  house.  Between  these 
a  piece  of  sail  twenty  feet  long  and  eighteen  feet 
wide  was  stretched  taut,  and  it  edges  nailed  to  the 
trees  from  the  ground  up  a  distance  of  six  feet. 

Then  two  other  trees  parallel  with  the  first  two, 
and  about  sixteen  feet  away,  were  chosen,  and  an- 
other piece  of  sail  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the 
first  was  fastened  to  them  in  precisely  the  same  way. 
Thus  two  sides  of  the  tent  were  formed. 

The  roof  was  made  by  bringing  that  portion  of 
the  two  sails  not  fastened  to  the  trees  together, 
and  lacing  them  to  a  ridge  pole,  held  in  place  by 
two  standards,  cut  from  the  booms  of  the  schooner. 
Then  the  two  ends  were  filled  in  with  canvas,  mak- 
ing the  front  and  back  of  a  structure  sixteen  by 
twenty  feet. 

This  was  immediately  divided  into  three  rooms 
by  walls  of  sail-cloth.  The  first,  at  the  front  of  the 
tent,  was  ten  by  sixteen  feet,  and  became  the  kitchen, 
dining-room,  and  parlor  of  the  house.  The  rear 
Avas  made  into  two  rooms  of  equal  size,  eight  by  ten 
feet,  one  being  the  store-room,  and  the  other  the 
bedroom  of  the  cabin. 

In  the  bedroom  three  bunks  were  erected  by  driv- 
ing uprights  into  the  ground,  and  spiking  roughly 


THE  SPONGE-GATHERERS.  107 

trimmed  poles  to  them,  making  a  frame  six  feet  by 
two  and  a  half,  and  two  feet  from  the  earth.  On 
these  sail-cloth  was  first  stretched  tightly  for  a 
bottom ;  and  then  mattresses  brought  from  the 
vessel  completed  the  bed. 

In  the  living  room  were  placed  the  table,  chairs, 
and  other  furniture  from  the  schooner's  cabin ; 
while  the  kits  of  the  crew  furnished  receptacles  for 
the  clothing,  utensils,  and  tools  that  had  been  brought 
from  the  same  treasure-house. 

In  the  store-room  were  packed  all  the  articles  that 
needed  to  be  kept  dry  ;  but  the  barrels  of  salt-junk, 
pork,  and  water  were  rolled  into  the  shade  of  the 
palm  trees,  and  covered  with  sail-cloth  to  further 
protect  them  from  the  sun's  rays. 

Knowing  that  the  supply  of  water  brought  from 
the  vessel  was  limited  and  would  soon  be  exhausted, 
an  arrangement  was  made  to  secure  a  new  supply 
with  the  first  rain.  Eave-troughs  were  placed  on 
both  sides  of  the  tent-roof,  and  conductors  to  lead 
the  water  to  four  casks  placed,  one  at  each  end,  of 
these  troughs. 

Later  it  was  found,  however,  that  even  this  ar- 
rangement was  not  sufficient  to  meet  their  needs  ; 
and,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Cubans,  their  water 
supply  was  finally  obtained  in  the  same  manner  the 
dwellers  on  the  larger  cays  of  that  region  secure 
theirs — by  sinking  a  well  down  through  the  coral 
substratum  of  the  island.  This  was  not  so  hard  a 
task  as  might  be  imagined ;  since,  when  once  through 
the  outer  coating  of  the  coral,  it  becomes  soft  and 
is  easily  removed  to  any  depth. 

A  week  had  passed  before  the  cabin  and  its  ar- 
rangements were  fully  completed,  and  as  yet  there 
had  been  no  sign  of  a  passing  vessel.  It  was,  there- 
fore, now  determined  to  make  a  daily  patrol  of  the 
island,  in  order  to  keep  a  lookout  on  all  sides  for 
a  rescuing  ship. 


108  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

The  resources  of  the  island  were  also  drawn  upon, 
so  as  not  to  exhaust  their  stores  too  rapidly.  But 
they  soon  found  they  were  in  no  danger  of  starving. 
The  fruits  of  the  cay  were  abundant  ;  yams  grew  iji 
one  part  of  the  islet,  of  good  size  and  very  edible; 
fowl  of  many  kinds  were  there  for  the  killing ;  and 
the  sea  furnished  fish  of  a  dozen  varieties  and  in  a 
large  quantities. 

Three  weeks  after  they  began  their  sojourn  there, 
they  also  found  that  the  center  island  of  the  tiny 
group,  barren,  as  at  first  it  seemed,  was  really 
destined  to  furnish  them  with  an  important  supply 
of  food.  Turtles  came  there  to  deposit  their  eggs, 
and  they  soon  became  skilful,  not  only  in  finding 
the  eggs,  but  also  in  catching  the  turtles  themselves. 
Turtle  soup  and  turtle-egg  omelet  became,  there- 
fore, a  regular  part  of  their  varied  diet. 

As  the  months  wore  away,  and  no  vessel  appeared, 
the  faces  of  the  island  prisoners  grew  long  and  care- 
worn. It  was  evident  that  they  must  be  out  of  the 
usual  line  of  travel  between  the  American  cities  and 
the  islands  to  the  south ;  and  there  was  now  serious 
thought  on  the  part  of  all  of  trying  to  construct 
some  sort  of  a  craft  by  which  they  could  reach  some 
of  the  inhabited  islands,  surely  not  many  miles 
away. 

April  came,  however,  and  the  problem  of  escape 
still  remained  unsolved,  when,  by  an  unlooked-for 
circumstance,  their  despair  was  suddenly  changed 
to  hope. 

Early  one  morning  Bert  had  gone  to  the  salt 
marsh  at  the  southern  end  of  the  cay  to  shoot  fowl. 
Creeping  cautiously  through  the  mangrove  trees, 
that  he  might  get  a  shot  at  the  birds  before  he  was 
himself  discovered,  he  came  to  an  opening  where, 
over  the  sandy  bank  of  the  center  islet,  he  caught 
sight  of  smoke  rising  from  the  south  island  of  the 
group — the  one  on  which  he  had  first  landed. 


THE  SPONGE-GATHERERS.  109 

"Wondering  what  it  could  mean,  he  hastened  back 
to  the  upland,  and  climbed  the  nearest  tree  to  a 
height  of  twenty  feet  or  more.  This  gave  him  an 
unobstructed  view  over  the  mangrove  swamp  and 
sandy  cay,  and  with  a  sudden  hope  that  his  own 
rescue  and  that  of  his  comrades  was  now  at  hand, 
he  looked  eagerly  towards  the  islet  from  which  the 
smoke  was  still  rising. 

His  position  enabled  him  to  see  the  whole  of  the 
southern  cay,  and,  to  his  surprise,  he  now  beheld 
two  large  sail-boats,  anchored  within  the  little  bay 
where  several  months  before  he  had  himself  crawled 
ashore;  while  under  the  very  palms  where  he  had 
spent  the  first  night  of  his  island  imprisonment  was 
a  rude  camp,  about  which  several  men  and  women 
and  children  were  gathered,  eating  breakfast. 

Four  yawls  were  drawn  up  on  the  sandy  beach  ; 
several  heaps  of  black  stuff  lay  in  the  sun  ;  and  what 
looked  like  huge  forks  and  great  drag-nets  were 
scattered  about  the  encampment  or  along  the 
shore. 

Deeming  it  wiser  to  acquaint  his  companions  with 
his  discovery  before  he  made  further  investigation, 
Bert  descended  from  the  tree  and  hastened  off  to 
his  own  camp. 

Quickly  making  known  the  presence  of  the  visit- 
ors to  the  Cubans — no  difficult  task  now,  as  their 
lon<*  sojourn  together  had  perfected  the  American 
lad  in  his  use  of  Spanish,  and  the  Cubans  on  their 
part  in  the  speaking  of  English — all  three  armed 
themselves  with  guns  or  revolvers  saved  from  the 
stranded  schooner,  and  went  back  to  Bert's  place  of 
observation. 

Selecting  trees  near  enough  together  to  allow 
them  to  converse  with  each  other  in  low  tones, 
they  ascended  into  the  branches,  and  scrutinized 
the  newcomers. 

Since  the  boy  first  discovered  them,  the  strangers 


110  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

had  finished  their  meal,  and  the  men  were  now 
arranging  to  enter  their  small  boats. 

A  man  and  a  youth  stepped  into  each,  and  pushed 
off — the  lad  sculling,  the  man  taking  his  place  in  the 
bow  of  the  light  craft,  with  what  looked  like  a  largfe 
five-pronged  fork,  with  a  very  long  handle,  in  his 
hands. 

No  sooner  had  the  Cubans  seen  these  movements, 
than  they  exclaimed,  simultaneously  : 

"  They  are  sponge-gatherers !  We  are  saved  ! 
We  are  saved  !  "  and  dropping  to  the  ground  they 
indulged  in  the  most  frantic  demonstrations  of  joy. 


STARTLING  NEWS.  HI 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

STARTLING  NEWS. 

WHEN  his  companions  uttered  their  joyful  cry, 
there  at  once  flashed  into  the  mind  of  the  lad  a 
portion  of  a  geography  lesson  he  had  learned  in  his 
school  days  : 

"  One  of  the  principal  industries  of  these  islands 
(Bahama)  is  that  of  sponge-gathering.  Hundreds 
of  men  and  boys  are  employed  in  diving  or  dredging 
for  this  important  article  of  commerce  ;  and  numer- 
ous bales  of  the  dried  sponges  are  sold  in  the  mar- 
kets of  the  United  States  and  other  parts  of  the 
world." 

He  could  almost  see  himself  again  reciting  glibly 
this  passage  to  his  teacher ;  but  with  the  words 
came  the  assurance  that  the  Cubans  were  right. 
An  avenue  of  escape  from  their  island  imprison, 
ment  was  really  at  hand,  and  no  less  elated  than 
his  comrades,  he  followed  them  to  the  ground  and 
joined  in  their  shouts  of  joy. 

It  was  low  tide,  and  regardless  of  a  wetting,  they, 
leaving  their  weapons  behind,  rushed  into  the  water 
and  waded  over  to  the  center  islet.  Here  they  had 
but  to  call  out  loudly  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
men  in  the  approaching  boats. 

Instantly  the  yawls  stopped,  while  their  occupants 
stared  curiously  at  the  three  ill-clad  and  dripping 
figures. 

Again,  in  Spanish,  the  trio  called  loudly  for  the 
boats  to  come  to  their  assistance. 


112  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

At  this  renewed  cry  the  advance  boat  dropped 
back  to  the  others,  and  the  men  engaged  in  lo\v  out 
earnest  conversation  for  a  few  minutes;  then  a  stout 
man  of  perhaps  sixty  years,  apparently  the  leader 
of  the  party,  asked  in  good  English : 

"  Who  are  you  ? " 

Delighted  to  hear  his  native  tongue  spoken  again, 
Bert  stepped  closer  to  the  channel's  edge,  saying : 

"  I  am  an  American,  and  my  companions  are 
Cubans.  We  were  cast  away  on  this  island  seven 
months  ago.  Come  over  in  your  boats,  and  take  us 
to  your  encampment.  Then  we'll  tell  you  the  whole 
story ;  and  we  hope  you  will  help  us  to  get  back  to 
our  home  and  friends." 

There  was  another  moment  of  consultation,  and 
then  the  same  man  said : 

"  We'll  come  for  you  at  once,  sir." 

Immediately  two  of  the  yawls  were  pushed  over 
to  the  cay,  and  Bert  entered  one,  and  the  two  Cubans 
the  other.  Then  they  were  sculled  rapidly  back  to 
the  little  bay  where  the  two  sloops  were  anchored, 
and  run  ashore  in  front  of  the  camp. 

There  were  three  rude  huts,  and  from  them  there 
came  flocking  three  women,  several  half-grown  girls 
and  boys,  and  two  or  three  smaller  children,  to  see 
the  newly  arrived  strangers. 

All  gathered  closely  around  the  newcomers,  and 
listened  with  gaping  mouths  to  the  story  Bert  now 
told.  He  closed  his  tale  with  the  words : 

"  Through  all  these  months  of  watching  and  wait- 
ing not  a  passing  vessel  have  we  seen.  You  are  the 
first  human  beings  we  have  looked  upon.  Where 
are  we  ?  Who  are  you  ?  Where  do  you  come  from  ? 
Will  you  help  us  to  escape  from  our  imprisonment, 
whicfi  has  become  almost  unendurable  ? " 

The  questions  of  the  lad  were  quickly  answered. 

The  group  of  cays  that  had  for  so  long  a  time 
been  their  home  was  on  a  line  running  from  the 


STARTLING  NEWS.  113 

Great  Exuraa  Island  to  Point  de  Maysi,  the  extreme 
eastern  end  of  Cuba,  and  about  one  hundred  miles 
south  of  the  former  island,  which  was  the  home  of 
the  sponge-gatherers.  It  was  a  little  out  of  the  usual 
course  of  the  vessels  plying  between  any  of  the 
island  ports,  and  this  accounted,  as  the  shipwrecked 
men  had  already  surmised,  for  their  long  and  fruit- 
less waiting  for  some  ship  to  take  them  away. 

As  for  the  sponge-gatherers  themselves— their 
leader  was  John  Gowth,  an  Englishman  by  birth,  but 
a  man  who  had  lived  so  long  in  the  Bahamas,  those 
islands  seemed  more  like  home  to  him  than  his  native 
land.  The  oldest  woman  was  his  wife,  a  native  of 
Great  Exuma.  The  two  younger  men  were  his  sons, 
and  the  younger  women  their  wives;  while  the 
other  mem  bers  of  the  party  were  his  children  and 
grandchildren — in  all  they  numbered  sixteen  souls. 

The  reason  for  their  coming  to  the  cays  at  this 
time  was  due  to  the  following  fact :  The  summer 
before  Mr.  Gowth  had  been  driven  by  a  storm  into 
the  little  bay  of  the  south  islet.  Before  he  departed 
he  discovered  that  the  surrounding  waters  were 
rich  in  sponges  ;  and  he  left  with  the  fixed  purpose 
of  some  time  returning  to  reap  the  fruits  of  his 
discovery. 

But  a  combination  of  circumstances  had  prevented 
his  carrying  out  that  purpose  until  two  days  before, 
when  with  his  sons  and  their  families  he  had  ar- 
rived, and  begun  the  long  delayed  work. 

As  to  the  eager  question  of  the  island  prisoners, 
whether  he  would  nelp  them  to  escape,  he  kindly 
replied : 

"  When  we  go,  you  certainly  may  go  with  us. 
But  we  have,  at  considerable  cost  to  ourselves, 
arranged  for  a  sojourn  here  until  we  have  secured 
a  full  load  of  sponges  for  our  sloops.  "We  cannot 
afford  to  depart  until  that  end  is  accomplished.  If, 
however,  vou  will  turn  and  to  help  us  in  the  work,  it 
8 


114:  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

will  shorten  the  time  we  have  to  remain  here,  and 
we  will  allow  you  your  share  in  the  value  of  the 
sponges  we  gather." 

Bert's  first  thought  was  to  offer  Mr.  Gowth  the 
hundred  dollars  in  gold,  which  he  (unknown  to  th*e 
Cubans)  still  had  in  his  possession,  for  an  immediate 
passage  for  himself  and  friends  to  the  nearest  port ; 
then  he  reflected  that  he  might  need  every  dollar 
of  this  sum  to  enable  him  to  continue  his  journey 
to  San  Juan  after  he  had  once  reached  some  center 
of  civilization,  and  so  was  in  doubt  as  to  the  wis- 
dom of  making  such  a  proposal. 

His  friends  must  have  long  since  given  him  up  for 
dead,  and  a  few  weeks'  delay,  now  that  he  was  sure 
of  escape,  could  make  but  little  difference.  Per- 
haps it  would  be  wiser  to  accept  Mr.  Gowth's 
terms,  and  for  a  while  turn  sponge-gatherer.  Find- 
ing that  the  Cubans,  eager  as  they  were  to  get  out 
of  their  exile,  heartily  favored  the  Englishman's 
proposition,  he  finally  decided  that  it  was  the  wiser 
course  to  follow,  and  as  cheerfully  as  possible  ac- 
cepted the  plan. 

Anxious  now  in  their  turn  to  show  their  own 
good-will,  he  and  his  comrades  told  of  the  fruitful- 
ness  of  the  northern  cay,  of  its  advantages  as  a 
place  of  residence,  and  of  their  own  well-appointed 
camp,  equipped  Avith  conveniences  the  sponge- 
gatherers  did  not  have,  and  ended  by  offering  all 
they  possessed  to  their  new  friends. 

The  result  of  this  information  was  an  immediate 
visit  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Gowth  to  the  upper  island 
with  the  Cubans  and  Bert ;  and  finding;  it  possible 
to  bring  the  sloops  inside  of  the  lagoon,  in  front  of 
the  tent,  and  that  outside  of  the  reef  there  was  rich 
sponging  grounds,  he  at  once  made  arrangements 
for  a  transfer  of  his  own  encampment  to  that  place. 
Henceforth  it  was  the  headquarters  of  the  sponge 
industry. 


STARTLING  NEWS.  115 

One  hut  was  left  at  the  lower  cay,  however,  since, 
in  case  of  an  easterly  or  southeasterly  storm,  it 
might  be  necessary  to  take  the  sloops  down  there, 
as  the  little  bay  afforded  the  best  harbor  in  the 
whole  group. 

An  abundance  of  canvas  was  still  left  the  ship- 
wrecked men,  and  out  of  this  three  tents,  similar  to 
the  one  they  occupied,  but  not  so  large,  were  erected 
and  soon  the  encampment  was  busy  with  life. 

The  sponge-gatherers  had  come  equipped  for  all 
the  methods  now  employed  in  securing  sponges  in 
the  Bahamas.  They  had  their  long-handled,  five- 
pronged  harpoons,  for  securing  the  sponges  in  water 
of  but  a  few  fathoms'  depth.  This  was  the  work 
they  were  about  to  engage  in  when  discovered  by 
the  island  prisoners. 

In  this  method  a  boy  steers  the  boat,  while  the 
man,  armed  with  his  formidable  harpoon,  stands  in 
the  bow,  gazing  down  into  the  clear  water.  On 
discovering  the  sponge,  he,  with  a  dexterous  move- 
ment that  comes  only  from  long  practise,  plunges 
the  fork  down  into  the  sea,  tears  the  sponge  from 
its  growing  place,  and  hauls  it  to  the  surface,  where 
it  is  hauled  into  the  yawl.  This  process  continues 
until  the  boat  is  loaded,  when  it  is  brought  to  the 
camp. 

The  dredging  operation  is  a  more  complicated 
affair.  The  dredge  itself  resembles  a  huge  scoop — 
six  yards  wide  at  the  mouth,  one  yard  high,  and 
backed  by  a  coarse  network  made  of  cords  the  thick- 
ness of  the  finger.  This  is  weighted  and  sunk  to  a 
freat  depth,  and  then  drawn  along  the  sea  bottom 
y  a  tow-line  from  the  sloop.  When  loaded  with 
the  sponges  it  has  torn  from  their  watery  bed,  it  is 
brought  in  as  near  the  beach  as  possible  by  the 
vessel,  then  dragged  in  by  hand  upon  the  shore. 

The  diving  process  is  carried  on  at  even  a  greater 
depth,  and  in  its  original  method  was  the  simplest 


116  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

of  all  the  ways  used  to  secure  the  sponges.  A 
naked  man,  with  a  cord  attached  to  his  waist,  and 
a  huge  knife  in  his  hand,  dives  down  to  the  bottom, 
quickly  severs  an  armful  of  the  sponge  from  its 
resting-place,  and  returns  to  the  surface.  So  QX- 
pert  does  the  diver  become  in  this  work,  and  so 
accustomed  to  being  underneath  the  water,  that  he 
thinks  little  of  his  task,  and  in  an  almost  incredibly 
short  time  fills  the  boat  to  overflowing  with  the 
sponge. 

At  the  present  time,  however,  the  diving  process 
is  in  many  cases  carried  on  with  all  the  apparatus 
of  the  diver's  suit  and  life-line.  ^The  man  remain- 
ing for  hours  under  water,  and  the  sponges  he 
gathers  are  hauled  to  the  surface  by  his  comrades 
in  the  accompanying  boat. 

The  sponge-gatherers  who  were  now  at  the  cays 
had  a  single  diving  apparatus  with  them,  but  in- 
tended to  use  it  only  wrhen  they  had  exhausted  the 
sponges  in  the  shallower  depths. 

The  cleaning  process  of  the  sponges  is  the  same 
in  whatever  way  they  may  be  collected.  They  are 
brought  to  the  shore,  and  left  for  a  day  in  the  open 
air.  Then  they  are  beaten  with  thick  sticks,  until 

•/ 

the  soft  tissues  are  removed,  after  which  they  are 
rinsed  in  fresh  water,  thoroughly  dried,  and  packed 
in  bundles. 

The  one  drawback  to  a  permanent  sponge  industry 
in  the  cays  was  the  absence  of  a  running  stream. 
But  for  this  the  newcomers  had  provided  in  a 
measure.  They  had  brought  several  huge  casks  of 
water  with  them,  and  quickly  adopted  the  two 
methods  already  used  by  the  castaways  to  replenish 
their  stock,  namely  :  putting  eve-troughs  along  the 
tents,  with  barrels  at  every  corner  to  catch  the 
precious  fluid  when  it  rained  ;  and  the  sinking  of 
wells  through  the  coral  bed-rock  until  water  was 
found. 


STARTLING  NEWS.  117 

The  women  and  children  for  the  most  part  did 
the  work  of  cleansing  ;  thus  leaving  the  men  free 
to  continue  daily  their  own  work  of  procuring  the 
sponges. 

Now  followed  one  of  the  busiest  months  in  our 
young  hero's  life.  At  first  he  was  assigned  to  boat- 
steering,  while  the  Cubans  were  employed  in  dredg- 
ing. But  before  a  week  had  elapsed  they  all  had 
become  so  used  to  the  ways  and  means  employed, 
that  they  could  be  used  at  almost  any  point  where 
a  hand  was  needed. 

When  the  work  was  once  well  under  way,  a  bale 
of  sponges  a  day  was  a  fair  average  for  the  company 
of  toilers,  and  just  a  month  after  the  sponge- 
gatherers  came  a  sloop-load  was  ready  for  market- 
ing. Mr.  Gowth,  therefore,  and  a  boy,  with  the 
three  castaways,  left  the  island  for  Farmer's  cay, 
the  finest  station  on  Exuma,  possessing  a  harbor  of 
great  beauty. 

In  twenty  hours  they  reached  there,  and  stopping 
only  long  enough  for  Mr.  Gowth  to  greet  friends, 
and  obtain  a  fresh  supply  of  provisions,  they  again 
sailed  for  Nassau,  on  the  island  of  New  Providence, 
ninety  miles  away. 

A  strong  breeze  from  the  south  enabled  them  to 
make  the  run  in  twelve  hours,  and  on  the  morning 
of  May  2d  they  entered  the  harbor. 

Scarcely  was  their  anchor  down  when  a  boat  put 
out  from  a  neighboring  vessel,  and  came  alongside, 
bringing  the  startling  news  that  the  United  States 
had  declared  war  with  Spain  ;  the  harbor  of  Havana 
was  blockaded ;  and  several  vessels  flying  the 
Spanish  flag  were  already  captured. 


118  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK, 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    BOMBARDMENT    OF    SAN   JUAN. 

IT  is  a  question  who  was  the  most  excited  over 
this  startling  news — the  American  lad,  or  the  Cuban 
men.  Eagerly  they  asked  the  man  who  had  made 
the  announcement  for  fuller  details,  finding  that  he 
had  in  that  single  sentence  really  told  them  all  he 
knew. 

"  We  can  get  the  full  particulars  at  the  United 
States  consular  office,"  suggested  the  older  Cuban; 
"  and  if  we  were  only  in  a  presentable  garb  I  should 
advise  our  going  there  at  once." 

"  We  \vill  go  on  shore  and  purchase  the  present- 
able garbs,"  said  Bert  with  a  smile.  Then  he  told 
the  two  fellows,  who  had  for  so  long  a  time  been  his 
sole  companions,  of  the  money  he  possessed. 

"  I  have  one  hundred  dollars  in  gold  in  one  of 
the  pockets  of  my  cork-jacket ;  and  have  purposely 
kept  it  for  just  such  an  emergency  as  this,''  he  said. 
"  We  will  all  go  on  shore,  purchase  the  clothing, 
secure  rooms  at  the  hotel,  and  then  call  on  the 
consul." 

His  friends  protested  against  his  using  the  money 
for  them,  saying  they  had  friends  in  Xew  York,  and 
possibly  could  arrange  some  way  to  draw  upon  them 
ror  whatever  amounts  they  might  need. 

"Well,  we'll  get  the  outfits,  and  arrange  that 
matter  later,"  Bert  persisted. 

Captain  Gowth  also  desired  to  visit  the  city,  and 
in  a  short  time  all  four  were  landed  on  the  nearest 
wharf. 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  SAN  JUAN.     H9 

In  a  clothing  store  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
dock  the  lad  and  his  comrades  were  soon  fitted  out 
with  everything  they  needed  at  a  reasonable  price, 
and,  in  a  back-room  of  the  establishment,  speedily 
transformed  themselves,  so  that  they  hardly  knew 
each  other.  Then,  inquiring  their  way  to  a  good 
hotel,  they  soon  sat  down  to  the  finest  breakfast  they 
had  eaten  in  many  months. 

They  did  not  have  to  wait  until  they  visited  the 
consul,  however,  to  ascertain  the  details  of  the  war. 
At  the  table  with  them  was  an  Englishman,  who, 
learning  they  were  recent  arrivals  in  the  city, 
told  them  the  story  of  the  blowing  up  of  the  Maine 
in  Havana  harbor,  of  the  dismissal  of  the  American 
minister  from  Madrid,  and  the  formal  declaration  of 
war  by  the  United  States  Congress  for  the  purpose 
of  securing  the  liberty  of  Cuba. 

The  effect  of  this  recital  upon  the  Cubans  was 
plainly  visible.  "With  flushed  cheeks  and  sparkling 
eyes  they  declared  they  should  sail  at  the  first  op- 
portunity for  New  York,  and  offer  their  services  to 
the  United  States  government;  and,  when  the  re- 
citer of  these  stirring  items  added  that  the  blockad- 
ing of  the  Cuban  ports  doubtless  would  be  rapidly 
followed  by  the  blockading  of  Porto  Rico,  Bert 
was  equally  anxious  to  depart  for  San  Juan  at  the 
earliest  moment. 

Their  interview  with  the  consul  an  hour  later 
was  very  satisfactory.  That  gentleman  received 
them  courteously,  and  listened  attentively  to  their 
stories. 

Then  he  said  to  the  Cubans  : 

"  A  steamer  leaves  here  to-morrow  for  New  York. 
I  will  cable  your  friends  in  that  city,  and  advance 
you  whatever  amount  they  direct.  Meantime  I  will 
engage  your  passages.  Call  at  nine  in  the  morning 
and  we  will  adjust  these  matters." 

To  Bert  he  added: 


120  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  I  have  heard  of  you,  young  man.  In  fact  in- 
quiries about  you  have  been  very  much  in  evidence 
the  last  six  or  seven  months.  A  man  named  Loomis 
in  your  native  village  has  directed  me  to  spare  no 
expense  to  ascertain  your  fate  ;  and  your  father's 
bankers  in  San  Juan  have  notified  me  to  follow  up 
any  clew  that  might  lead  to  your  discovery  regard- 
less of  the  cost." 

"  You  see  three  boats  of  the  ill-fated  Alhambra 
reached  Cab  Island  in  safety,  and  the  passengers 
were  brought  to  this  city.  Nothing  was  known  of 
the  fourth  boat,  and  it  was  generally  believed  that 
the  steamer  went  down  before  it  could  be  launched 
with  all  on  board. 

"  But  several  weeks  later  your  friend  Mr.  Barnes 
appeared  on  the  scene.  His  cork-jacket  had  kept 
him  afloat  until  he  was  picked  up  by  a  tramp 
steamer,  that  carried  him  to  the  coast  of  Africa. 
From  there  he  cabled  your  father,  and,  as  soon  as 
the  return  passage  could  be  made,  joined  him  in 
Porto  Rico.  Both  refuse  to  believe  that  you  are 
dead,  and  every  consul  in  these  islands  has  been 
asked  to  keep  a  lookout  for  you.  I  advise  you, 
therefore,  to  cable  your  friends  in  the  States  and 
also  at  San  Juan  of  your  rescue." 

"  Then  Mr.  Barnes  escaped  !  "  cried  the  lad  joy- 
fully, when  the  consul  had  done  speaking.  "  I'm 
so  glad  !  But  how  soon  can  I  get  a  passage  for  the 
island !  " 

"  Don't  go,"  answered  the  officer,  sententiously ; 
"  let  your  father  know  of  your  safety,  but  either  re- 
turn to  the  States,  or  await  his  orders  here.  Things 
may  be  very  unpleasant  in  Porto  Rico  before  this 
war  is  over,  and  it  will  be  better  for  you  to  keep 
out  of  the  island  for  the  present.  Draw  on  me  for 
whatever  money  you  may  need  until  your  plans  are 
formed." 

But  this  advice  was  not  to  Bert's  liking.    He 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  SAN  JUAN. 

desired  to  join  his  father,  and  while  going  back  to 
his  hotel  hit  upon  a  scheme  which  he  believed  would 
enable  him  to  sail  for  San  Juan  before  the  consul 
knew  of  it,  or  his  father  could  forbid  it. 

Stepping  up  to  the  clerk  in  the  hotel  office,  as 
soon  as  he  arrived  there,  he  asked : 

"  Do  you  know  of  any  vessel  that  will  leave  here 
for  Porto  Kico  soon  ?  Either  a  steamer  or  a  sailing 
craft  will  answer  my  purpose." 

"  I  do  not,"  the  clerk  answered,  politely ;  "  but  I 
will  make  inquiries  for  you,  if  you  wish." 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  wish  you  would,"  the  boy  replied. 

He  now  went  and  cabled  Mr.  Loomis,  asking  him 
to  tell  his  aunt  of  his  safety,  and  inform  her  that  he 
should  join  his  father  in  Porto  Rico  at  once.  But 
the  cablegram  to  his  father's  bankers  he  purposely 
withheld  until  he  should  have  secured  a  passage  for 
the  island. 

While  he  was  busy  writing  a  long  letter  to  his 
aunt,  telling  the  story  of  his  island  imprisonment 
and  final  rescue,  Captain  Gowth  called.  He  had 
sold  his  load  of  sponges  at  a  good  figure,  and  had 
now  come  to  settle  with  the  boy  and  the  Cubans, 
and  so  generous  was  he  with  his  pay  that  all  three 
were  sure  they  would  now  need  no  financial  help 
from  the  consul  in  order  to  reach  their  respective 
destinations. 

At  supper-time  the  hotel  clerk  informed  Bert  that 
there  was  a  British  brig  in  port  which  would  sail 
for  Porto  Rico  on  the  following  day,  and  it  might 
be  possible  for  him  to  obtain  a  passage  on  her. 

Inquiring  where  he  could  find  the  vessel,  he  was 
told  that  her  captain  was  just  then  in  the  hotel 
reading-room,  and  he  at  once  accepted  the  offer  of 
the  clerk  to  be  introduced  to  him. 

Two  minutes  later  he  was  telling  his  story  to 
Captain  Mattox,  a  big  burly  Englishman,  and  closed 
with  the  anxious  question  : 


122  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  Now,  Captain,  can  I  secure  a  passage  with  you 
for  San  Juan  \  " 

"  I'll  certainly  let  you  go  along  with  me,"  the 
Britisher  said,  heartily.  "  But  I  won't  promise  »to 
deliver  you  safely  in  the  city,  for  I'm  not  sure  of 
getting  there  myself.  I  hope,  however,  to  get  in 
there  before  the  port  is  blockaded  by  the  United 
States  warships.  It's  worth  a  pretty  penny  to  my 
shippers  if  I  can  do  so." 

Then  lowering  his  voice  he  added  : 

"  Get  your  traps  ready,  and  go  on  board  with  me 
to-night  at  eight.  The  general  report  is  that  I  am 
to  sail  to-morrow,  but  the  fact  is  I  shall  be  miles 
outside  before  the  light  of  another  day." 

Thanking  him  for  his  kindness,  the  lad  hastened 
his  preparations.  He  added  a  postscript  to  the  letter 
he  had  already  written  his  aunt,  giving  the  name  of 
the  vessel  on  which  he  had  taken  passage  for  San 
Juan,  and  the  hour  of  his  sailing. 

He  then  went  to  the  telegraph  office,  and  finding 
there  was  still  an  uninterrupted  cable  with  Porto 
Rico,  sent  the  following  message  to  his  father's 
bankers : 

"  NASSAU,  K  P.,  May  2,  1898. 

"  To  MAKINGS,  TEMPEKO,  AND  YANDENTI, 

"  SAN  JUAN,  PORTO  Rico. 

"  Send  word  to  Captain  Albert  Larkin  that  I  am 
alive  and  well — just  rescued  from  an  island  imprison- 
ment of  seven  months.  Sail  to-day  for  San  Juan  on 
British  Brig  Henrietta. 

"  BEET  LARKIN." 

His  last  half  hour  was  spent  with  the  Cubans, 
from  whom  he  now  parted  with  much  regret.  They 
already  knew  something  of  his  plans,  and  sym- 
pathized with  him,  but  for  the  first  time  now  heard 
them  in  detail. 

After  explaining  how  he  had  secured  an  oppor- 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  SAN  JUAN.     123 

tunity  to  leave  Nassau  immediately  for  his    destina- 
tion, he  said,  laughingly : 

"  When  you  call  on  the  consul  to-morrow  morning 
tell  him  I  have  stolen  a  march  on  him,  and  am  al- 
ready well  on  my  way  towards  San  Juan.  Inform 
him,  however,  that  I  obeyed  him  in  sending  word 
of  my  escape  to  my  friends,  and  thank  him  for  his 
offer  of  funds, — an  offer  I  did  not  need  to  accept." 

At  eight  o'clock,  with  a  neat  and  trim  valise  in 
his  hand,  and  looking  every  inch  a  traveler,  he 
stepped  into  Captain  Mattox's  yawl,  and  was  taken 
off  to  the  brig,  a  staunch  vessel  of  six  hundred  tons. 

A  stateroom  next  to  the  captain's  was  soon  got 
ready  for  him,  and  at  ten  he  was  sleeping  soundly. 
Several  hours  later  he  aroused  enough  to  become 
aware  by  the  motion  of  the  vessel  that  they  were 
at  sea. 

"  We  are  off,"  he  murmured  ;  "  I  shall  soon  be 
with  father,"  and  turning  over  in  his  berth  he  sank 
into  a  fitful  sleep.  He  seemed  to  be  following  his 
father  over  hills,  through  forests,  and  across  streams ; 
there  were  many  strange  faces  in  the  scenes  through 
which  he  passed,  and  some  were  threatening  and 
some  friendly.  Prominent  among  the  latter  was 
the  countenance  of  Lawyer  Greene,  of  Goodport,  only 
in  the  dream  he  seemed  to  be  an  officer  of  high  rank 
in  the  army.  He  awoke  before  the  dream  was  fin- 
ished, and  before  he  had  found  his  father,  and  was 
troubled  by  that  circumstance  for  some  time. 

But  it  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  after  a  hearty 
breakfast  he  went  on  deck,  and  soon  threw  off  his 
depressed  feelings  ;  he  had  occasion  to  recall  that 
dream  many  times,  however,  before  he  saw  his 
father. 

The  brig,  though  a  staunch  vessel,  was  not  a  fast 
sailer  ;  the  winds  were  light  ;  and  the  nine  hundred 
miles  between  Nassau  and  San  Juan  were,  there- 
fore, logged  off  slowly. 


124  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  eighth  day  out  before 
the  mountains  of  the  island  were  seen,  and  then  the 
sudden  appearance  of  a  large  steamer,  with  the  stars 
and  stripes  at  her  masthead,  caused  the  captain  to 
change  his  course,  and  bear  off  towards  the  Danish 
island  of  St.  Thomas. 

Rapidly  the  steamer  overhauled  the  brig,  and 
when  she  was  about  two  miles  off,  she  sent  a  shot 
flying  across  the  bow  of  the  fleeing  vessel. 

Captain  Mattox  responded  by  running  the  British 
flag  up  to  the  brig's  peak,  but  kept  straight  on  his 
course.  As  soon  as  the  flag  was  seen  the  war  vessel 
saluted,  and,  sheering  off,  ran  back  towards  the  har- 
bor of  San  Juan. 

"  I  reckoned  that  would  satisfy  her,"  the  watching 
captain  remarked  to  Bert.  "  She  has  no  reason  to 
make  a  fuss  with  that  flag." 

"  But  you'll  have  to  give  up  going  into  San  Juan, 
won't  you?"  the  lad  inquired,  somewhat  anxiously. 

"  Not  much.  Wait  until  night  falls,  and  see," 
was  the  laconic  answer. 

In  two  hours  the  sun  went  down,  and  as  the  dark- 
ness settled  over  the  deep  the  course  of  the  brig  was 
changed,  and  under  a  favoring  breeze  she  sped 
back  towards  the  island,  perhaps  forty  miles  away. 

Her  skipper,  moreover,  evidently  knew  his  ground, 
for  he  ran  close  into  the  island,  then  along  under  its 
shadow,  and  at  a  little  after  midnight  was  off  San 
Juan  harbor. 

Hugging  close  into  the  shore,  the  vessel  sped 
around  the  island  point,  on  which  the  city  is  situated, 
and  for  fear  of  the  forts,  came  to  anchor.  But  with 
early  light  she  signaled  for  a  pilot,  and  was  soon 
under  wa}T  again. 

"With  her  flag  flying  at  her  peak  she  glided  into 
the  inner  harbor,  and  was  safe.  But  it  was  none  too 
soon,  for  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  Sampson's 
fleet  lay  off  Morro  Castle. 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  SAN  JUAN.  125 

As  Captain  Mattox  prepared  to  visit  the  city,  he 
said  to  his  passenger  : 

"  I  know  ho\v  anxious  you  must  be  to  get  on 
shore  ;  but  until  we  learn  the  lay  of  things  I  advise 
you  to  pass  yourself  for  an  English  boy,  and  my 
ward." 

To  this  Bert  readily  assented,  and  they  were 
rowed  over  to  the  docks.  Their  first  call  was  at 
the  British  consul's.  There  they  learned  there  was 
no  United  States  consul  in  the  city,  and  that  the 
English  consular  office  was  attending  to  all  the 
American  affairs. 

When  told  who  the  lad  was,  and  his  purpose  in 
coming  to  the  island,  the  official  looked  grave. 

"  I  know  your  father  very  well,"  he  said  ;  "  but 
so  far  as  I  know  he  has  not  been  up  to  the  city  for 
at  least  thirty  days,  and  there  are  rumors  that  things 
are  not  as  pleasant  down  in  his  region  as  they  might 
be.  Marinos,  Tempero,  and  Vandenti  are,  however, 
a  reliable  firm,  and  as  you  have  cabled  them  of  your 
coming,  we  will  call  there  as  soon  as  I  have  finished 
business  with  Captain  Mattox." 

In  a  half-hour,  therefore,  they  went  over  to  the 
office  of  the  bankers. 

Mr.  Marinos,  the  senior  member  of  the  firm,  was 
in,  and  greeted  the  boy  cordially. 

"  I  received  your  cablegram,"  he  explained  to 
Bert,  "  and  at  once  sent  a  trusty  messenger  down  to 
the  plantation  with  it ;  but  he  has  not  returned, 
though  he  should  have  been  back  at  least  five  days 
ago.  I  cannot  account  for  his  delay,  nor  for  some 
other  facts,  unless  there  is  trouble  down  there." 

"What  trouble  could  there  be?"  asked  the  lad, 
apprehensively. 

"  Well,  your  father  is  an  American,  and  Spaniards 
and  Americans  are  not  the  best  friends  just  now," 
the  banker  said,  reluctantly.  "  Then  there  is  a 
lawless  gang  down  there  in  those  mountains,  who, 


126  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

taking  advantage  of  the  present  trouble  between  our 
governments,  are  running  things  their  own  way." 

"  Is  it  any  more  than  rumor  ? "  questioned  the 
consul. 

"  I  fear  it  is,"  replied  Mr.  Marines,  with  a  shake 
of  his  head. 

"  What  had  I  better  do  then  ? "  inquired  the  boy. 

"  Stay  here  until  I  can  send  a  second  messenger 
down  to  the  Anvil,"  responded  the  banker.  "  I  will 
gladly  receive  you  into  my  house,  if  you  desire." 

"  It  will  be  safer  for  him  to  remain  with  me,"  the 
consul  suggested,  quickly. 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Mr.  Marines ;  ''  especially  if  the 
city  is  besieged,  as  it  is  likely  to  be.  But  spare  no 
expense,  sir,  to  make  the  lad  comfortable,  and  I  will 
pay  the  bills,  for  his  father  has  large  sums  deposited 
with  me.  I  will  also  send  you  word  when  my  sec- 
ond messenger  returns.  He  shall  be  despatched  to- 
day." 

More  worried  than  he  cared  to  show  Bert  accom- 
panied the  consul  back  to  his  office,  and,  later  in 
the  day,  across  the  bay  to  San  Tuice,  a  delightful 
suburb,  where  was  the  consular  residence. 

Before  they  went  it  was  known  that  the  United 
States  warships  were  approaching  the  harbor,  and 
intense  anxiety  prevailed  in  the  city  and  the  sur- 
rounding towns. 

Mrs.  Ralston,  the  consul's  wife,  was  much  alarmed, 
and  it  needed  every  assurance  her  husband  could 
give  her  to  allay  her  fears. 

"  We  are  out  of  all  danger  here,"  he  repeatedly 
said  ;  "  and  there  is  no  danger  at  the  consular  office 
as  long  as  the  British  flag  floats  above  its  door." 

Between  the  excitement  attending  the  presence 
of  the  fleet,  and  the  uncertainty  of  his  father's 
whereabouts,  it  is  not  strange  that  our  hero  felt 
little  like  sleep  when  shown  to  his  room  in  the  con- 
sul's home. 


THE  BOMBARDMENT  OF  SAN  JUAN. 

In  spite  of  himself,  his  dream  on  the  night  he  left 
Nassau  would  recur  to  his  mind,  and  for  a  long 
time  he  walked  his  room  in  a  state  of  mingled  anx- 
iety and  alarm. 

At  length  he  threw  himself,  without  undressing, 
upon  his  bed,  and  sank  into  a  troubled  sleep. 

From  this  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by  a  loud 
booming.  It  took  him  a  moment  to  collect  his 
thoughts.  As  he  waited,  a  second  boom,  followed 
by  a  tremendous  explosion  that  shook  the  building. 
Then  he  knew  where  he  was,  and  what  was  hap- 
pening. 

He  was  in  San  Juan,  and  Sampson  had  begun  to 
bombard  the  forts. 


128  A  YANKEE  LAB'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A   NEW    FRIEND. 

AT  that  moment  a  knock  came  at  his  door,  and 
the  voice  of  the  consul  said  : 

"  Wake  up,  Mr.  Larkin  !  The  firing  has  begun, 
and  I  thought  you  might  wish  to  go  with  us  to  a 
hill  back  of  the  house,  where  we  shall  have  a  good 
view  of  the  harbor  and  its  fortifications." 

In  an  instant  the  lad  was  on  his  feet. 

"  I  will  join  you  in  a  minute,"  he  answered. 

It  was  scarcely  more  than  that  when  he  descended 
to  the  dining-room,  where  he  met  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ralston.  They  first  had  a  light  lunch  and  hot 
coffee,  and  then  left  the  house  for  the  summit  of  a 
high  hill  not  many  rods  back  of  the  consular  resi- 
dence. 

It  was  just  at  sunrise.  Across  the  sparkling 
water  of  the  harbor  was  the  city ;  to  the  left  was 
Morro  Castle  and  the  lighthouse ;  while  beyond,  at 
the  entrance  of  the  bay,  lay  the  great  warships, 
with  their  steam  and  smoke  rising  high  in  the 
heavens. 

"  That's  the  Indiana  there  at  the  right ! "  cried 
Mr.  Ralston.  "  Now  watch  !  " 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  a  great,  rolling, 
white  cloud,  blended  with  a  red  sheaf  of  flame, 
spouted  out  from  her  turret,  and  the  watchers  saw 
what  looked  like  a  black  ball  dart  across  the  sky  on 
a  low  curve.  It  was  an  eleven-hundred-pound  shell, 
and  it  struck  just  back  of  Morro  Castle,  and  the 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  129 

next  instant  fire  flashed  out  on  all  sides  where  it 
struck,  and  great  fragments  of  earth  and  stone 
flew  up. 

"  Whew ! "  whistled  Bert,  "  that  was  a  good 
one." 

They  stood  looking  at  the  fort  for  some  moments 
before  the  heavy  boom  of  a  gun  shook  the  windows 
of  the  houses  about  them,  to  be  followed  instantly 
by  the  sound  of  the  explosion  of  the  shell  back  of 
the  castle.  The  whole  city  appeared  to  throw  back 
the  echoes  to  the  seaward. 

There  was  another  sound,  too,  like  low  thunder, 
or  like  the  rumbling  of  a  freight-train  passing  over 
a  bridge  at  a  distance.  This  the  consul  declared  to 
be  the  roaring  of  the  great  projectiles  through  the 
air. 

The  New  York,  Sampson's  flag-ship,  was  firing 
also  at  the  fort ;  and  soon  they  heard  the  eight  and 
twelve-inch  guns  of  the  Iowa.  But  none  of  them 
shook  the  windows  like  the  thirteen-inch  guns  of 
the  Indiana. 

Every  fort  was  now  replying,  and  soon  there  was 
such  a  cloud  of  smoke  that  the  observers  lost  sight 
of  the  ships  entirely.  The  roar,  however,  was  al- 
most continuous ;  and  the  fortifications  being  nearer, 
their  guns  drowned  those  of  the  ironclads. 

The  little  party  were  so  much  excited  and  inter- 
ested in  what  they  saw  that  they  did  not  notice  the 
approach  of  a  gentleman,  until  a  hearty  voice  said 
in  English : 

"  Good  morning,  Ralston !  Good  morning,  ma- 
dam !  and  good  morning,  youngster !  " 

"  Good  morning,  Swallow  !  "  responded  the  con- 
sul, shaking  hands  vigorously  with  the  newcomer, 
adding :  "  I  didn't  know  you  were  up  to  the  city, 
sir." 

"  Came  up  from  the  ranch  yesterday,  and  ran 
over  here  last  evening  to  stay  with  an  old  acquaint- 
9 


130  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

ance,"  explained  the  gentleman.  "  That  is  his  party 
over  on  the  opposite  hill.  I  noticed  you  here,  and 
came  across  to  see  you." 

"  I'm  glad  you  did  ;  but,  by  the  way,  Swallow, 
this  is  a  youngster  you  will  be  interested  in.  Mr. 
Swallow,  Master  Albert  Lark  in,  son  of  Captain 
Larkin,  your  neighbor — as  you  count  neighbors 
over  there  in  the  east  part  of  the  island." 

Bert  turned  instantly  and  gave  the  man  a  search- 
ing look. 

He  was  a  tall,  stout  gentleman  of  perhaps  forty 
years,  in  the  typical  dress  of  the  planter  ;  but  there 
was  a  frank,  open  face  that  was  to  be  trusted,  and 
the  lad  felt  he  had  found  a  friend  the  moment  he 
stepped  forward  to  acknowledge  this  formal  intro- 
duction. 

The  man,  however,  only  stared  at  him;  and  it 
was  not  until  he  had  said :  "  I'm  glad  to  meet  you, 
Mr.  Swallow,  and  trust  you  can  tell  me  something 
of  my  father,"  that  the  gentleman  recovered  himself 
enough  to  exclaim : 

"  Then  you  aren't  dead  after  all !  That's  what 
both  Barnes  and  the  captain  maintained  the  last 
time  they  were  over  to  my  hacienda ;  but  I  told 
them  it  was  holding  out  against  every  reasonable 
hope.  I  shall  have  to  take  it  back  though,  won't  I? 
But  tell  me  where  you  have  been  ever  since  last 
September,  and  how  you  happen  to  turn  up  here 
now." 

Quickly  Bert  told  of  his  island  imprisonment,  and 
then  asked,  eagerly  : 

"  But  when  was  my  father  at  your  house,  Mr. 
Swallow  ?  How  long  ago  was  it  ? " 

"About  two  months  ago.  Barnes  and  he  had 
been  up  here,  and  were  on  their  way  back  to  the 
Anvil.  They  stopped  over  night  with  me,  as  they 
always  do  when  making  the  trip,"  responded  the 
planter,  now  recovering  from  his  evident  surprise  in 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  131 

meeting  the  boy  sufficiently  to  shake  hands  heartily 
with  him. 

"  Haven't  you  seen  or  heard  anything-  from  them 
since  then,  Mr.  Swallow  ?  "  inquired  the  lad  in  ap- 
parent disappointment. 

"Yes,"  he  replied;  "about  a  month  ago  I  was 
over  at  their  ranch.  They  were  well  then,  and  I've 
heard  nothing  to  the  contrary  since  my  visit.  You 
see,"  he  added  by  way  of  explanation,  "  it  is  twenty 
miles  through  the  mountains  to  your  father's  planta- 
tion, and  we  don't  often  see  each  other." 

Mr.  Ralston  now  interrupted,  and  told  why  Bert 
was  so  anxious. 

It  was  now  Mr.  Swallow's  turn  to  grow  grave. 

"  It  looks  bad,  that's  a  fact,"  he  admitted.  "  I 
own  up  that  there  is  a  gang  of  brigands  operating 
in  the  mountains — has  been  for  some  time — raiding 
the  villages,  robbing  travelers,  and  terrorizing  the 
whole  neighborhood.  That  is  what  I  went  over  to 
Larkin's  to  see  him  about.  I  Avanted  to  consult  with 
him  and  Barnes  about  putting  an  end  to  the  rascals' 
depredations ;  we  decided,  however,  that  it  was 
wiser  to  complain  to  the  district  authorities  rather 
than  take  things  into  our  own  hands.  They  prom- 
ised to  send  a  force  into  the  hills  and  disperse  the 
robbers,  but  have  never  done  so.  I  took  care  also 
to  warn  both  Larkin  and  Barnes,  before  I  left  their 
ranch,  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout,  as  the  fact  that  they 
were  Americans  might  work  against  them  if  war 
broke  out." 

Noticing  the  lad's  troubled  face  at  this  frank  ad- 
mission of  the  planter,  the  consul  quickly  called  the 
attention  of  his  party  to  the  changed  position  of  the 
American  fleet. 

The  smoke  had  now  blown  away,  and  they  saw 
that  five  of  the  warships  had  approached  closer  to 
the  fortifications.  "While  they  were  watching  them 
the  New  Y^ork  suddenly  opened  fire  on  the  castle, 


132         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

and  they  saw  the  masonry  fly  like  chaff  as  the  heavy 
projectiles  struck  it.  A  few* minutes  later  the  Iowa 
also  began  firing  her  heavy  guns  at  the  fort  and 
light-tower. 

They  also  saw  several  shells  sweep  above  'the 
fortifications,  and  fall  in  or  near  that  quarter  of  the 
city  which  is  just  back  of  Morro,  and  wondered  if 
they  did  much  damage. 

Terrible  as  the  sight  was  they  enjoyed  it.  It  was 
exciting  and  thrilling,  though  great  devastation  fol- 
lowed in  the  wake  of  every  one  of  those  great  shells. 

Soon  another  immense  cloud  of  smoke  and  dust 
hid  everything  from  view  in  the  direction  of  the 
city ;  the  smoke  from  the  warships,  too,  drifted 
across  the  harbor  and  brought  with  it  the  acrid 
smell  of  gunpowder. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  watchers  had  to 
judge  of  the  progress  of  the  battle  wholly  by  the 
sense  of  hearing ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  they 
detected  that  the  firing  of  the  forts  had  ceased. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  are  disabled,"  remarked  Mr. 
Swallow. 

"  No,  the  fleet  has  also  ceased  firing,"  Mr.  Ealston 
replied,  listening  a  moment ;  "  and  when  the  smoke 
lifts  we  may  be  able  to  tell  the  cause." 

They  were  surprised,  when  the  smoke  drifted 
away, "to  see  the  castle  not  seriously  damaged,  and 
yet  the  ships  abandoning  the  fight. 

"  I  don't  see  what  they  are  doing  that  for,"  Bert 
said  in  perplexity. 

"  Possibly  the  elevation  of  the  Morro  above  the 
sea  renders  the  shots  of  the  vessels  ineffective,"  sug- 
gested the  consul. 

They  knew  later,  however,  that  the  real  object  of 
the  bombardment  had  been  to  locate  the  forts,  and 
to  test  the  accuracy  of  their  fire ;  and  this  certainly 
had  been  successfully  accomplished,  and  no  damage 
done  to  the  warships  whatever. 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  133 

It  was  now  half-past  six.  They  had  been  out 
there  over  two  hours,  and  were  glad  to  return  to 
the  house  for  rest  and  refreshments. 

Mr.  Swallow,  at  the  invitation  of  the  consul,  ac- 
companied them.  While  they  were  eating  breakfast 
Bert  heard  the  guest  say  that  he  was  to  leave  early 
the  following  day  for  his  ranch. 

The  lad  glanced  wishfully  over  at  Mr.  Ralston, 
whom  he  regarded  as  his  guardian  and  protector  for 
the  time. 

"  Why  cannot  I  go  along  with  Mr.  Swallow  as 
far  as  hjs  plantation  ?  "  he  asked.  "  From  there  it 
will  be  easy  to  communicate  with  father." 

"  Of  course  it  will,"  assented  the  planter,  heartily. 
"  I  will  ride  over  with  you  myself.  Let  the  boy  go, 
Ralston." 

"  I  can  see  no  harm  in  it,"  said  that  gentleman, 
slowly,  "  and  will  consent,  if  Marinos  does.  "We'll 
see  him  to-day." 

The  banker  was  uneasy  when  this  proposition  was 
made  to  him.  But  Mr.  Swallow  was  so  sure  he 
could  look  out  for  the  lad,  Mr.  Marinos  finally 
yielded,  and  it  was  decided  that  he  should  go. 

At  the  financier's  suggestion,  however,  Bert  was 
put  into  the  dress  of  the  planter,  and  armed  with, 
pistols  and  the  indispensable  machete.  A  fine  saddle- 
horse  was  also  furnished  him  from  the  banker's  own 
well-equipped  stable,  and  early  the  next  morning 
he  and  Mr.  Swallow,  and  a  single  attendant,  left 
the  city. 

Their  course  was  over  the  San  Antonio  bridge  to 
the  main  island,  and  along  the  great  military  road, 
that  runs  from  San  Juan  to  Ponce,  as  far  as  the 
town  of  Roble ;  then  they  turned  to  the  east,  and 
by  a  narrow  and  winding  path  pushed  steadily  for- 
ward towards  the  Cayagua  river. 

The  farther  they  went  the  rougher  the  way  be- 
came, and  the  lad  soon  understood  why  it  was  that 


134  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

his  father  found  it  necessary  to  take  two  days  for 
the  fifty-five  miles'  journey  to  the  Anvil. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  Bert  would  have 
been  interested  in  the  strange  scenes  through  which 
he  was  passing — the  immense  ranches,  the  fine 
orchards  of  tropical  fruits,  the  quaint  nouses,  the 
great  forests,  the  picturesque  people.  But  only  one 
thing  now  claimed  his  attention — he  was  going  to 
his  father — every  mile  passed  over  was  a  mile  nearer 
to  him — and  he  thought  of  his  journey  only  in  that 
light.  There  would  be  time  enough  later  on  to  study 
the  scenes  about  him. 

After  fording  the  Cayagua  river,  they  stopped 
for  dinner  ;  but  two  hours  later  were  in  the  saddle 
and  riding  to  the  southeast.  All  the  afternoon  the 
country  grew  more  and  more  hilly ;  it  was,  in  fact, 
first  an  ascent  to  some  woody  height,  then  a  descent 
into  some  narrow  valley  through  which  a  stream  of 
sparkling  water  ran.  There  were  streams  every- 
where. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Mr.  Swallow 
suggested  that  they  look  well  to  their  pistols,  and 
keep  close  together. 

"  The  precaution  may  be  entirely  unnecessary," 
he  added,  "  but  it  is  safer,  as  we  are  now  in  a 
region  where  the  brigands  have  recently  carried  on 
some  of  their  depredations." 

For  an  hour  they  kept  their  horses  nearly  abreast, 
and  soon  they  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill,  where 
they  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  small  lake,  picturesquely 
shaded  by  huge  palms. 

Pointing  towards  this  sheet  of  water,  Mr.  Swallow 
said  : 

"  That  is  on  my  ranch,  and  within  a  mile  of  my 
house.  At  the  foot  of  this  hill  is  the  brook  which 
marks  the  western  boundary  of  my  property.  In 
fifteen  minutes  we  shall  be  there,  and  out  of  all 
danger," 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  135 

He  rode  ahead  as  he  spoke,  and,  closely  followed, 
first  by  the  lad,  and  then  by  the  native  attendant, 
dashed  down  the  hill. 

At  the  stream  they  stopped  to  allow  their  horses 
to  drink,  and  then  began  to  ford  the  stream. 

The  next  moment  there  was  a  clatter  of  horses' 
feet  behind  them,  and  a  half-dozen  swarthy  men, 
armed  with  rifles,  pistols  and  machetes,  rode  rapidly 
out  from  the  surrounding  forest  and  down  towards 
them. 

u  Quick  !  They  are  the  brigands  !  "  shouted  the 
planter,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse.  His  companions 
followed  his  example,  and  the  three  steeds  sprang 
out  of  the  brook  together. 

At  the  same  instant,  the  pursuers  raised  their 
rifles  and  fired.  A  bullet  whistled  close  to  the  lad's 
head,  but  he  was  untouched ;  Mr.  Swallow  ap- 
parently was  uninjured  also  ;  the  native,  however, 
fell  back  into  the  stream,  dead  or  severely  wounded, 
while  his  horse  ran  wildly  on  towards  his  home. 

"  Come  on,  lad  ! "  cried  the  Englishman  to  Bert, 
who  was  looking  back  at  the  fallen  man ;  "  Pedro 
is  done  for,  and  we  must  be  out  of  range  before 
those  rascals  can  load  again.  They  won't  follow  us 
farther  than  the  edge  of  this  forest." 

Side  by  side  the  horses  dashed  ;  in  less  than  five 
minutes  they  were  out  in  the  open  valley,  with  the 
mansion  house  in  full  sight ;  in  another  five  minutes 
they  were  at  the  building. 

As  they  reined  in  their  panting  beasts,  Mr.  Swallow 
said  in  Spanish  to  the  crowd  of  servants  who  rushed 
out  to  meet  them  : 

"  Make  haste,  boys  !     I'm  wounded  !  " 

Then  he  fell  forward  on  the  neck  of  his  horse, 
and  would  have  rolled  to  the  ground  had  not  a 
stalwart  negro  caught  him  in  his  arms.  He  had 
fainted  from  the  loss  of  blood. 


136  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AT    EL    YUNQUE    KANCH. 

As  the  servant  caught  his  master  in  his  arras,  he 
looked  inquiringly  at  the  lad,  and,  for  the  second 
time  since  he  had  left  the  States,  Bert  was  thankful 
he  could  speak  Spanish.  His  long  sojourn  with  the 
Cubans  had,  moreover,  rendered  him  so  proficient  in 
the  use  of  the  language,  he  now  had  no  difficulty  in 
explaining  to  his  listeners  the  exciting  adventure 
through  which  he  and  the  ranchman  had  just  passed. 

As  he  was  talking,  there  was  another  arrival.  A 
horseman  galloped  up  the  lane,  and  into  the  crowd, 
asking  in  his  native  tongue,  for  he  was  evidently  an 
islander : 

"  What  is  it,  boys  ?  The  master  wounded  ?  Who 
has  done  this  ? " 

"  It's  the  gefe-chief,"  the  men  explained,  stepping 
back,  and  allowing  him  to  dismount  within  a  few 
feet  of  the  young  stranger. 

To  him  Bert  only  said  : 

"  I'm  Bert  Larkin,  son  of  Captain  Larkin,  at  the 
El  Yunque  ranch.  I  came  out  from  the  city  with 
your  master.  At  the  brook  two  miles  west  of  here 
we  were  attacked  by  the  bandits,  and  Mr.  Swallow 
was  shot.  He  is  no"t  dead,  though,  only  faint  from 
the  loss  of  blood.  He  should  be  attended  to  at  once. 
I  will  tell  you  the  rest  of  my  story  later." 

"  You  are  right,"  the  gefe  promptly  responded. 
"  Here,  boys,  bring  the  master  into  the  house." 

Four  of  the  peasants  raised  the  wounded   man, 


AT  EL  YUNQUE  RANCH.  137 

and,  led  by  the  overseer,  bore  him  through  the 
broad  doorway  into  a  large,  spacious  sitting-room. 

Throwing  open  a  door  on  the  right,  the  chief  dis- 
closed a  large  bedroom,  where  he  directed  the  men 
to  lay  their  unconscious  burden  down. 

"  Tell  the  mistress,"  he  then  said  to  a  house-girl, 
Avho  at  that  moment  appeared  from  one  of  the 
inner  rooms  of  the  mansion. 

But  the  man  did  not  wait  for  Mrs.  Swallow  to 
come.  Calling  Bert  to  his  assistance,  he  stripped  off 
the  Englishman's  clothing,  and  looked  for  the  wound 
that  had  already  saturated  the  garments  with  blood. 

He  soon  found  it  on  the  left  side,  just  below  the 
shoulder. 

"  Good  !  "  he  exclaimed,  after  examining  the  in- 
jury a  moment.  "  Ball  entered  there,"  pointing  to 
the  back,  "and  came  out  here,"  turning  the  body 
so  as  to  reveal  the  left  breast.  "  Wound  is  not 
over  an  inch  or  two  deep.  We  shall  soon  pull  him 
through." 

At  that  instant  a  woman  of  singular  beauty 
entered.  Her  dark  face  told  that  she  was  of  either 
native  or  Spanish  blood — perhaps  a  mixture.  She 
merely  glanced  at  the  young  American,  and  then, 
dropping  to  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  grasped  one 
of  the  limp  hands  of  the  wounded  man,  asked  pas- 
sionately : 

"  Is  he  dead  ?     Oh  !  do  not  tell  me  he  is  dead !  " 

"No,  senora,  only  wounded,  and  not  badly  at 
that,"  replied  the  gefe.  "  We  will  first  staunch 
this  blood,  and  then  restore  him  to  consciousness. 
Quick  with  the  bandages  and  restoratives!  You 
know  where  they  are.  Master  always  has  them 
ready." 

She  arose  at  once  from  her  knees,  and  went  to  a 
closet  built  into  one  side  of  the  room.  Throwing 
open  the  door,  she  came  quickly  back  with  rolls, 
bandages,  and  bottles,  and  then  with  deft  hands 


138  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

helped  to  bind  up  the  wounds,  and  press  a  cordial 
between  the  lips  of  her  husband. 

These  efforts  had  the  desired  effect.  The  eves  of 
the  man  opened,  and  he  said  distinctly,  though 
feebly  : 

"  ft  is  nothing,  Inez.  I  shall  soon  be  myself 
again." 

Then  noticing  Bert,  standing  a  few  feet  away,  he 
111 
added : 

"  This  young  lad  is  Captain  Larkin's  son,  Inez. 
He  wasn't  lost  at  sea  as  was  feared.  I  brought  him 
along  with  me  on  the  way  to  his  father's." 

She  turned  and  gave  the  boy  a  bright  smile. 
Then  she  said  in  excellent  English  : 

"  I  am  so  glad  for  your  father !  He  has  been 
worried  greatly  about  you,  but  nowr  he'll  be  happy. 
I  must  not  forget  I  am  your  hostess,  however." 

She  stepped  into  the  parlor,  and  touched  a  call- 
bell  that  lay  on  the  table.  A  maid — the  same  one 
that  had  gone  to  call  her  mistress — immediately 
appeared. 

"  Make  ready  the  guest  chamber,"  she  said  in 
Spanish.  Then  added  in  English  to  the  waiting 
boy: 

"  Sit  down  in  the  parlor  a  few  minutes,  Mr. 
Larkin,  and  excuse  me  ; "  then  she  went  back  to  her 
husband. 

In  ten  minutes  the  maid  returned,  and  showed 
the  lad  to  his  room. 

"  Dinner  will  be  ready  in  a  half-hour,"  she  an- 
nounced in  Spanish,  waiting  to  see  if  the  guest 
understood  her. 

"  Muy  bien,  gracias " — very  well,  thank  you — 
Bert  responded,  smilingly. 

She  smiled  also  ;  and  satisfied  that  her  announce- 
ment was  intelligible,  she  disappeared. 

Glancing  about  the  apartment,  the  boy  at  once 
felt  at  home.  The  furniture  was  old  and'  massive, 


AT  EL  YUNQUE  RANCH.  139 

but  arranged  not  unlike  a  guest  chamber  in  the 
States,  while  the  bed  was  clean  and  comfortable. 

"  It  hardly  seems  as  though  I  could  be  in  Porto 
Rico,"  he  murmured,  hastening  to  bathe  and  dress 
for  the  coming  meal. 

This  was  abundant,  and  consisted  of  soup,  roast 
fowl,  vegetables  and  fruits  ;  but  he  ate  alone,  and 
immediately  afterwards  retired  to  his  room. 

Not  to  sleep,  however.  He  was  now  within 
twenty  miles  of  his  father,  and  should  see  him  on 
the  morrow,  unless — in  spite  of  himself  he  could 
not  help  thinking  of  that  unless — unless  something 
had  happened  to  him.  For  the  second  time  his 
dream,  on  the  night  he  left  Nassau,  came  vividly 
before  him.  Was  it  now  being  realized  ? 

Mr.  Swallow's  wound  doubtless  had  much  to  do 
with  his  sad  forebodings.  Had  his  father  fallen  a 
victim  to  the  same  gang  of  depredators  ?  With  a 
stout  resolve  he  determined  to  know  the  worst  as 
soon  as  possible. 

It  was  late  when  he  fell  asleep,  and  he  slept  late. 
In  fact,  the  sun  was  several  hours  high  when  he 
awoke.  Dressing,  he  made  his  way  down  to  the 
parlor.  His  entrance  there  must  have  been  heard 
by  Mrs.  Swallow,  for  almost  immediately  the  door 
of  her  room  opened,  and  she  appeared. 

Greeting  him  cordially,  she  answered  his  anxious 
inquiry  for  her  husband's  condition  by  saying : 

"  He  is  very  comfortable  indeed  this  morning, 
and  wishes  to  see  you  after  you  have  eaten  your 
breakfast.  I  will  order  it  at  once." 

She  returned  in  five  minutes,  and  led  the  way 
herself  to  the  dining-room,  where  the  lad  did  full 
justice  to  the  hearty  repast  placed  before  him. 
Then  he  accompanied  her  to  her  husband's  bedside. 

"Good  morning,  my  lad,"  Mr.  Swallow  said, 
cheerfull}7,  as  Bert  came  in.  "  I'm  here  for  a  few 
days  only,  and  now  which  will  you  do :  wait  until  I 


140  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

am  able  to  go  over  to  the  Anvil  with  you,  as  I  fully 
intended  before  this  mishap ;  or  will  you  go  to- 
day?" 

"  To-day,  if  I  can  find  the  way,"  the  boy  answered 
promptly. 

"  Oh !  I'll  furnish  you  with  a  guide — a  faithful 
fellow — who  will  not  leave  you  until  you  are  safe 
in  your  father's  hands." 

"  Then  I'll  start  at  once,  unless,"  he  added,  "  I 
can  be  of  some  service  to  you." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  responded  the  wounded  man ; 
"  I'm  in  good  hands,"  and  he  looked  lovingly  at  his 
wife.  "  I  also  anticipated  your  decision,  and  have 
the  guide  and  horses  at  the  door.  But  I  have  a 
single  word  of  caution  for  you  :  If  there  is  any 
trouble  at  the  Anvil,  and  you  don't  find  your  father, 
you  had  better  return  here." 

"  I  will,"  promised  the  lad,  and  then,  after  thank- 
ing his  kind  friend  for  all  he  had  done  for  him,  he 
Avent  out  to  his-horse  and  guide,  and  was  soon  on 
his  way. 

The  road,  rougher  if  anything  than  the  one  over 
which  he  had  come  the  day  before,  wound  among 
the  hills,  and  it  was  impossible  to  make  over  four 
miles  an  hour.  His  guide,  an  old  native,  who  had 
passed  his  whole  life  in  that  region,  was  evidently  a 
man  of  few  words.  Always  attentive  to  the  lad's 
questions,  and  watchful  to  make  his  journey  pleas- 
ant, he  nevertheless  spoke  only  when  spoken  to, 
and  then  always  answered  in  the  briefest  way. 

At  first  Bert  kept  a  hand  on  his  pistols,  and 
looked  furtively  about  him  as  they  entered  every 
new  forest,  but  seeing  nothing  to  awaken  suspicion, 
,he  at  length  dismissed  his  fears,  and  rode,  as  did  his 
attendant,  carelessly  on. 

At  noon  they  had  made  scarcely  more  than  eight 
miles,  but  stopped  for  the  siesta  so  common  in  all 
tropical  lands. 


AT  EL  YUNQUE  RANCH.  141 

After  eating  the  lunch  Mrs.  Swallow  had  gener- 
ously provided,  the  guide  took  out  his  tobacco 
pouch,  and,  rolling  up  a  cigarette,  settled  himself 
for  a  smoke.  Then  he  stretched  himself  in  the 
shade  of  a  huge  gum  tree,  and  dropped  into  a 
slumber  so  sound  that  the  lad,  impatient  to  con- 
tinue their  journey,  found  it  difficult  to  arouse  him  ; 
and  when  aroused  his  invariable  reply  would  be: 

"  No  hurry  ;  go  faster  when  it  is  cooler." 

It  was,  therefore,  certainly  three  o'clock  before 
the  journey  was  resumed. 

Two  hours  later  they  came  out  upon  a  ridge  that 
gave  them  a  view  of  the  great  southern  valley, 
stretching  off  below  the  mountain  range — of  the 
great  anvil-shaped  peak  itself,  that  gavo  the  name 
to  the  surrounding  region — of  the  broad  plains  and 
level  meadows  so  different  from  the  north  side  of 
the  Luquillos. 

Here  the  guide  ventured  his  first  remark  without 
himself  being  addressed  : 

"  That  all  your  father's  hacienda,"  and  his  hand 
swept  across  the  whole  panorama  before  them. 

"With  sparkling  eyes  Bert  took  in  the  beautiful 
scene,  and  then  he  asked  : 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  mansion  ? " 

"  Four  miles  ;  good  road  ;  come,"  was  the  laconic 
reply,  and  the  man  led  the  way  down  the  decline  at 
the  fastest  pace  they  had  traveled  since  leaving  Mr. 
Swallow's  ranch. 

They  were  soon  able  to  strike  into  a  brisk  canter, 
and  before  long  were  passing  through  orchards  of 
tropical  fruits,  past  fields  of  cotton  and  tobacco,  and 
in  sight  of  nestling  hamlets,  where  women  and 
children  hastened  into  the  open  air  to  see  the 
travelers. 

In  about  a  half  hour  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
hacienda  house — a  massive  two-story  stone  building 
— and  five  minutes  later  halted  before  its  door. 


142  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

A  tall,  slightly  built  man,  unmistakably  a  Span- 
iard, stood  on  the  veranda,  and,  with  a  keen  glance  at 
the  boy,  he  asked  who  he  was  and  what  he  wanted. 

For  some  reason  he  never  could  tell  why,  but»  a 
tiling  he  was  ever  afterwards  profoundly  thankful 
for,  the  lad  replied  in  English  : 

"  I  am  Bert  Larkin,  Captain  Larkin's  son.  Are 
you  his  overseer  ?  " 

Instead  of  answering  directl\T,  the  man  put  a 
silver  whistle  to  his  lips,  and  gave  a  shrill  blast.  A 
negro  answered  the  call,  to  whom  the  man  said  in 
Spanish  : 

"  Take  the  horses  to  the  corral,  and  the  attendant 
to  the  kitchen." 

Then  he  said  to  his  visitor  in  broken  English  : 

"  Come  !  I  talk  to  you." 

Dismounting,  the  lad  with  some  misgiving  fol- 
lowed the  man  into  the  house.  He  led  the  way  to 
a  room  in  the  north  end,  evidently  fitted  up  for  an 
office,  and,  pointing  to  a  chair,  uttered  the  one  word : 

"  Seat." 

Bert  sat  down,  watching  the  man  closely,  whom 
he  thought  toyed  too  incessantly  with  the  handle 
of  the  machete  in  his  belt.  Civil  as  the  fellow  was, 
somehow  he  could  not  help  distrusting  him. 

The  Spaniard  now  opened  a  drawer  in  the  office 
table,  and  taking  out  some  papers,  pushed  them 
towards  the  lad,  asking  : 

"  Read  Spanish  ?  " 

There  was  a  subtle  look  in  the  man's  eye  that  led 
the  boy  to  suspect  this  was  a  test— rthe  fellow  was 
trying  to  find  out  if  his  caller  understood  Spanish. 
Would  it  not  be  just  as  well  to  have  him  think  he 
did  not  understand  the  language  ?  This  question 
flashed  through  the  lad's  mind,  and  remembering 
he  had  never  read  a  line  in  any  Spanish  book,  he 
answered  unhesitatingly  : 

"  No." 


AT  EL  YUNQUE  RANCH.  143 

He  thought  a  look  of  relief  passed  over  the  Span- 
iard's face,  but  if  so  it  was  quickly  concealed. 
Then  the  fellow  declared,  boldly  : 

"  Buy  ranch  !     Those  papers  ! " 

Bert  took  the  documents  into  his  hand,  and 
glanced  them  over.  He  could  here  and  there  make 
out  a  word,  and  recognized  that  they  were  legal 
writings  of  some  kind,  but  that  they  could  not  be 
what  the  man  claimed  he  felt  sure,  for  his' father's 
signature  was  not  on  them, 

He  at  once  decided  that  there  was  some  deep-laid 
scheme  to  get  possession  of  his  father's  property, 
but,  in  hopes  of  getting  at  the  bottom  of  the  treach- 
ery and  also  ascertaining  what  had  become  of  his 
father  and  Mr.  Barnes,  he  handed  the  papers  back 
to  the  man,  with  no  trace  of  distrust  on  his  face, 
asking  : 

"  How  long  ago  ?  Where  is  father  and  Mr. 
Barnes  ? " 

The  Spaniard  either  could  understand  English 
better  than  he  could  speak  it,  or  else  surmised  what 
the  boy  was  asking,  for  he  quickly  replied : 

"  Two  weeks  !     Gone  to  San  Juan  !" 

"  No,"  responded  Bert  with  a  decisive  shake  of 
his  head,  "  I  came  from  there." 

The  man  held  up  his  hands  in  astonishment. 

"  No  there !  "  he  cried ;  then  suddenly  :  "  Pay 
cash  ;  brigands  got  them." 

But  for  the  fact  that  his  father's  name  was  not 
on  the  papers,  the  boy  might  have  believed  the 
Spaniard  was  honest  in  his  suggestion,  so  real  was 
his  acting. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  asked  the  lad  in  apparent 
dismay,  on  his  side  becoming  an  actor  also. 

He  deceived  the  man,  if  the  man  did  not  deceive 
him. 

"  Do ! "  the  fellow  echoed,  leaping  to  his  feet,  and 
drawing  his  knife  from  his  belt — "  Wait !  Mor- 


144  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

row — men — hunt — so,"  and  he  made  a  furious  ges- 
ture of  cutting  an  adversary's  throat. 

His  tones  were  fierce — his  pantomine  was  per- 
fect— an  unsuspicious  observer  would  have  thought 
him  the  embodiment  of  a  righteous  indignation, 
ready  to  avenge  the  captain's  disappearance. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  grew  calmer. 

"  Tired  ?     Hungry  ?  "  he  asked. 

Bert  nodded  affirmatively,  hoping  to  gain  time 
to  think  over  the  situation,  and  to  decide  what  it 
was  best  for  him  to  do. 

The  Spaniard  rang  a  bell ;  the  same  negro  who 
had  taken  the  horses  appeared.  To  him  the  man 
said  in  Spanish,  and  Bert,  without  appearing  to  do 
so,  caught  every  word : 

"  Is  the  room  ready,  Jago  ? " 

«  Si,  seiior." 

"  Fixed  just  as  I  ordered  it  ? " 

"  Si,  seiior." 

"  Show  this  young  man  to  it." 

Then  to  his  guest  he  said  in  his  brief  English : 

"  Room !  Dinner !  hour !  "  all  of  which  the  lad 
understood  to  mean  that  he  was  to  be  shown  to  his 
room  first,  and  that  dinner  would  be  served  in  an 
hour. 

Uncertain  as  to  what  might  be  in  store  for  him, 
and  yet  not  wishing  to  give  the  Spaniard  any  reason 
to  believe  his  honesty  was  suspected,  Bert  arose 
promptly  and  followed  the  servant  from  the 
office. 

He  was  led  along  a  broad  hall,  and  up  a  wide 
stairway,  to  a  chamber  evidently  directly  over  the 
room  he  had  just  left,  where  the  servant  threw 
open  a  door,  and  made  a  sign  for  him  to  enter. 

For  a  moment  the  boy  hesitated,  fearing  he  was 
to  be  made  a  prisoner.  But  the  next  movement  of 
the  negro  completely  dispelled  that  fear.  Having 
pointed  out  the  room,  the  fellow,  without  himself 


AT  EL  YUNQUE  RANCH.  145 

entering  it,  turned  and  went  back  down-stairs,  leav- 
ing the  guest  to  come  and  go  as  he  pleased. 

"  Can  I  have  misjudged  the  Spaniard?  "  thought 
the  lad  as  he  now  entered  the  comfortably  furnished 
chamber,  finding  not  only  all  his  baggage  there, 
but  every  arrangement  for  a  luxurious  bath. 

He  thought  the  matter  over  as  he  washed  and  re- 
dressed, and  finally  concluded : 

"  The  Spaniard  thinks  he  has  completely  deceived 
me,  and  will  doubtless  to-morrow  carry  out  the 
farce  of  pretending  to  hunt  father  up.  "Well,  I'll 
let  him  do  so,  but  keep  my  eyes  and  ears  ready  to 
see  and  hear  any  and  everything  that  will  give 
me  light  on  this  mysterious  affair.  There  must  be 
some  of  these  people  about  here  who  know  and  will 
tell  me  the  truth." 

Scarcely  had  he  come  to  this  conclusion  when  a 
bell  rang  below,  and  believing  that  it  was  a  sum- 
mons to  the  table,  he  stopped  only  long  enough  to 
slip  one  of  his  revolvers  into  his  hip-pocket,  and 
then  hastened  down-stairs. 

The  Spaniard  met  him  in  the  hallway,  and  con- 
ducted him  to  a  room  in  the  rear  of  the  house, 
where  there  was  a  well-spread  table.  Over  this  the 
host  himself  presided,  and  no  one  came  near  him 
and  his  guest  while  they  were  eating. 

During  the  meal  the  man  said  little,  and  at  its 
close  made  a  motion,  which  meant  as  plainly  as 
words  could  have  done  : 

"  Will  you  go  to  the  office  or  back  to  your 
room  ? " 

"  I  will  go  to  my  room,"  said  Bert,  anxious  to  be 
alone  and  think  over  some  plan  by  which  he  could 
get  at  the  very  heart-secrets  of  a  man  whom  he 
believed  to  be  a  rascally  schemer. 

He  did  not  notice  the  sudden  glitter  in  the  Span- 
iard's eye,  and  went  up  to  his  chamber  wholly  un- 
conscious of  the  trap  into  which  he  was  falling. 
10 


14:6  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

It  was  already  dark,  and  a  light  shone  brightly 
from  a  lamp  on  the  table  as  he  entered  his  room. 
Closing  the  door  after  him,  he  dropped  into  a 
rocker  near  the  bed  and  gave  himself  up  to  serious 
thought. 

So  engrossed  was  he  that  he  did  not  hear  a  light 
step  in  the  upper  hallway,  and  not  until  a  sharp 
click  sounded  in  the  lock  did  he  spring  up  in  alarm. 

In  a  second  he  was  at  the  door,  and  had  seized 
the  latch  ;  but  he  was  too  late.  The  door  was  fas- 
tened ;  and  a  hurried  examination  of  the  room  dis- 
closed two  other  facts  :  the  shutters  of  the  windows 
were  all  closed  and  tightly  secured  from  without ; 
and  his  machete  and  pistol,  which  he  had  foolishly 
left  in  the  room  while  he  went  to  supper,  had  been 
removed. 

Beyond  all  question  he  was  a  prisoner. 


A  DIABOLICAL  PLOT.  147 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    DIABOLICAL    PLOT. 

IN  order  to  understand  what  had  happened  at  the 
Anvil  before  Bert  arrived  there  we  must  go  back  a 
few  years  in  our  story,  and  explain  a  matter  which 
Mr.  "Barnes  in  his  narrative  of  the  captain's  ex- 
periences had  not  thought  of  sufficient  consequence 
even  to  mention. 

It  was  not  then  ;  but  within  a  few  months  had 
become  an  important  factor  in  our  tale. 

When  the  old  Spanish  Don  died,  leaving  the 
island  ranch  to  Captain  Larkin,  there  was  a  distant 
branch  of  his  family  still  living  in  Spain,  which  by 
the  law  of  primogeniture  succeeded  to  all  of  his 
property  in  that  country. 

This  property,  however,  was  meager  beside  that 
which  he  possessed  in  Porto  Eico,  and  it  was  not 
the  intention  of  the  head  of  the  Spanish  branch  of 
the  family  to  lose  the  magnificent  ranch  in  that  isl- 
and unless  compelled  to  do  so.  An  investigation  was 
set  on  foot  immediately  to  test  the  validity  of  Cap- 
tain Larkin 's  claim  to  the  vast  estate. 

At  that  time,  however,  it  was  little  more  than  an 
examination  into  the  soundness  and  legality  of  his 
title.  For  the  agent  sent  out  to  the  island  returned 
with  the  tidings  that  the  plantation,  instead  of  being 
willed  to  the  American  captain,  had,  for  a  specified 
consideration  received  to  Don  Maximo's  full  satis- 
faction, been  transferred  by  deed,  and  duly  recorded 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  the  island,  prior  to 
the  old  Spaniard's  death.  There  could,  therefore,  be 


148  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

no  disputing  of  Captain  Larkin's  right  to  the 
property. 

There  the  matter  rested  so  far  as  the  inheritor  of 
the  Spanish  estates  was  concerned. 

But  this  man — Don  Pedro  Buvinez — had  one  child 
— a  daughter — already  married  to  a  haughty  but 
impoverished  noble,  named  Don  Jose  Sardinas,  Avho 
was  in  every  way  as  unscrupulous  as  he  was  poor 
and  proud. 

He  nurtured  a  bitter  hatred  against  the  man  who 
held  what  he  termed  his  own  rightful  possessions, 
and  only  waited  for  the  death  of  his  father-in-law 
to  make  an  attempt  to  obtain  the  property,  or,  failing 
in  this,  to  revenge  himself  on  the  man  who  had  (as 
he  viewed  it)  wronged  him. 

About  the  time  Mr.  Barnes  sailed  for  the  States 
to  ascertain  if  Bert  was  living,  the  death  of  Don 
Pedro  occurred,  and  the  son-in-law  immediately 
began  his  preparations  to  visit  Porto  Rico,  and  carry 
out  the  purpose  he  had  cherished  so  long  ;  and  it 
happened  that  he  landed  in  San  Juan  the  very  week 
Captain  Larkin  came  up  to  that  city  to  meet  the 
old  sailor  and  the  boy  whom  he  had  as  yet  never 
seen. 

As  now  known,  three  of  the  boats  that  left  the 
side  of  the  ill-fated  Alhambra  reached  Cat  Island, 
in  the  Bahama  group,  and  the  news  of  the  sad  dis- 
aster was  soon  heralded  all  over  the  world. 

The  sorrowful  tidings  reached  the  captain  on  the 
day  he  expected  to  clasp  his  son  in  his  arms,  and 
with  an  anxious  heart  he  waited  to  obtain  news 
from  the  fourth  and  last  boat  that  was  supposed  to 
have  also  cleared  from  the  sinking  steamer. 

Day  after  day  passed  ;  no  news  came  ;  and  finally 
it  was  the  generally  accepted  theory  that  the  un- 
fortunate vessel  had  gone  down  before  the  yawl  had 
been  launched,  and,  therefore,  all  others  on  board — 
Jack  ami  the  lad  included — had  been  lost. 


A  DIABOLICAL  PLOT. 

Reluctantly  accepting  this  view  at  last,  Captain 
Larkin,  looking  older  by  many  years  than  he  really 
was,  because  of  this  sudden  grief,  prepared  to  return 
to  the  Anvil. 

Calling  at  his  bankers,  at  their  request,  the  day 
before  his  departure  from  the  city,  he  was  intro- 
duced to  a  stranger,  who  proved  to  be  Don  Jose 
Sardinas,  the  Spanish  representative  of  the  old 
Don's  family. 

This  man—  as  we  have  seen — had  now  been  in 
San  Juan  some  days  ;  he  had  also  called  a  number 
of  times  on  Mr.  Marines,  who,  knowing  nothing  of 
the  fellow's  real  purpose  in  visiting  the  island,  re- 
ceived him  cordially  for  the  old  Don's  sake.  Dur- 
ing one  of  these  interviews  the  banker  had  incident- 
all  v  mentioned  the  sad  loss  of  Captain  Larkin's  only 
child. 

The  innocent  bit  of  news  filled  the  scheming 
Spaniard  with  delight.  He  saw  in  this  unexpected 
happening  an  evidence  that  things  were  slowly 
shaping  themselves  for  his  purpose  ;  and  believed  it 
all  the  more  when  the  captain  himself  came  into 
the  office,  bowed  and  aged  by  his  great  sorrow. 
With  the  devilish  cunning  of  which  he  was  a  perfect 
master,  he  immediately  decided  on  a  bold  move 
towards  the  fruition  of  his  scheme. 

Greeting  the  captain  with  marked  suavity,  he  rep- 
resented himself  as  having  run  over  to  the  island 
partly  for  the  pleasure  of  the  trip,  and  partly  for 
the  sake  of  visiting  the  old  estate  of  his  wife's  grand 
uncle. 

Learning  the  captain  was  in  the  city,  he  had  ven- 
tured to  arrange  for  this  meeting,  and  hoped,  ere 
his  return  home,  to  have  the  great  felicity  of  calling 
at  the  plantation  for  a  brief  inspection  of  it. 

The  captain,  looking  through  the  glasses  of  his 
own  honesty  and  integrity,  saw  nothing  out  of  the 
way  in  the  man's  proposal,  and  heartily  invited  him 


150         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

to  accompany  him  down  to  the  ranch  for  an  ex- 
tended visit. 

This  invitation  was  promptly  a'ccepted,  and  three 
days  later  the  Spaniard  was  installed  in  the  haci- 
enda house  as  the  captain's  guest.  > 

It  drew  the  captain's  attention  largely  from  his 
recent  affliction  to  show  his  visitor  over  the  estate. 
This,  as  is  already  known  to  the  reader,  had  under 
the  present  owner's  sagacity  and  enterprise  been 
brought  to  a  condition  that  made  it  one  of  the  finest 
plantations  in  the  island.  Every  new  aspect  of  its 
resources  and  value,  therefore,  only  caused  the  loss 
of  it  to  rankle  deeper  and  deeper  in  the  observer's 
heart,  and  led  him  to  resolve  more  and  more,  by 
fair  means  or  by  foul,  to  come  into  possession  of  it. 

Finding  that  the  captain  missed  greatly  the  serv- 
ices of  his  old  overseer,  Mr.  Barnes,  and  was  not 
himself  able  to  attend  to  many  of  the  details  of  the 
ranch  calling  for  prompt  attention,  the  Don,  by  an- 
other bold  stroke  of  policy,  but  under  the  plea  of 
learning  how  to  manage  such  an  estate,  offered  to 
assist  his  host. 

The  captain,  who  regarded  the  offer  as  genuine, 
not  only  thankfully  accepted  of  it,  but  generously 
insisted  upon  the  Spaniard's  receiving  a  handsome 
salary  for  his  services ;  and  within  a  few  weeks  the 
guest  actually  became  the  overseer  of  the  property. 

The  wily  Don's  first  move  was  to  arouse  the  en- 
mity of  the  peasants  on  the  estate  against  the  pres- 
ent owner,  but  soon  found  that  this  was  impossible. 
'No  employer  had  ever  been  kinder  or  more  liberal 
with  his  employees  ;  they  knew  it,  and  for  the  most 
part  were  devoted  to  their  American  master. 

The  exception  was  a  few  lawless  fellows,  whose 
own  misdoing  had  brought  them  into  ill-repute  ;and 
with  these  the  Spaniard  stealthily  became  friendly, 
planning  to  use  them  later  for  his  own  evil  purposes. 

He  had  been  overseer  at  the  Anvil  but  a  few 


A  DIABOLICAL  PLOT.  151 

weeks  when  three  circumstances  combined  to  develop 
his  plan  of  operations. 

The  three  circumstances  were :  first,  a  cablegram 
from  Mr.  Barnes  at  Cape  Town,  Africa,  announcing 
his  safety,  and  his  return  as  soon  as  possible  to  the 
island  ;  second,  the- constantly  growing  possibilities 
of  a  war  between  Spain  and  the  United  States;  and 
third,  the  assigning  to  the  nearest  military  station 
— that  of  Humacao — as  commanding  officer,  the 
Don's  own  cousin,  a  man  as  unscrupulous  as  himself. 

Don  Jose,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  his  relative 
had  assumed  his  position  in  the  near-by  town,  sought 
an  interview  with  him,  and  there  in  the  privacy  of 
that  Spanish  fort  was  concocted  as  diabolical  a  plot 
as  was  ever  formed  against  innocent  and  unsuspect- 
ing men.  In  brief  it  was  as  follows : 

Don  Jose,  in  order  that  he  and  his  colleague  might 
have  some  instruments  for  their  nefarious  work  as 
soon  as  the  time  was  ripe  for  it,  was  to  organize, 
secretly  of  course,  the  lawless  fellows  he  had  found 
in  the  mountain  region  into  a  regular  band  of 
plunderers,  whose  headquarters  were  to  be  some- 
where in  the  recesses  of  the  Luguillo  range,  and 
who  were  to  make  themselves  notorious  by  their 
raids  on  the  surrounding  community.  If  complaint 
was  made  to  the  military  governor,  he,  though  seem- 
ingly zealous  to  hunt  them  down,  was  never  to  find 
them. 

On  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Barnes,  the  Don  was  to 
resign  promptly  his  position  of  overseer,  on  the  laud- 
able plea  that,  as  he  was  now  no  longer  needed  at 
the  Anvil,  he  should  look  about  the  island  for  some 
plantation  he  could  purchase  for  himself.  His  real 
withdrawal,  however,  was  to  be  simply  to  the  bandit 
rendezvous  in  the  mountains,  where  he  could  keep  a 
constant  watch  over  the  movements  of  Captain 
Larkin  and  his  agent. 

A  third  step  in  the  plan  was  that,  as  soon  as  the 


152  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

declaration  of  hostilities  between  the  nations  seemed 
imminent,  the  Don  should  suddenly  appear  at  the 
Anvil,  and  make  a  bold  and  generous  offer  for  the 
ranch  on  the  double  pretext,  that  he  had  found  no 
plantation  he  liked  so  well,  and  thought  also  tha*b 
its  present  owner,  owing  to  the  prospect  of  a  war, 
would  prefer  to  sell  out,  and  return  to  his  own 
country. 

While  the  fourth  and  last  step  was,  whether  the 
offer  to  purchase  the  ranch  was  accepted  or  not, 
•:hat  the  Americans  should  be  quietly  put  out  of  the 
way,  and,  with  their  disappearance,  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  purchase  publicly  announced. 

Of  course  the  murderous  work  was  to  be  done  by 
the  band  of  robbers,  and  when  they  had  served  their 
purpose,  they  were  to  be  hunted  down  and  killed  by 
the  Spanish  soldiers  at  the  order  of  their  commander, 
who  now  apparently  awoke  to  his  real  duty  as  the 
military  governor  and  protector  of  the  district.  So 
every  trace  of  the  crime  was  to  be  swept  out  of  the 
way,  and  the  two  schemers  were  to  divide  between 
themselves  the  vast  and  valuable  estate. 

The  first  and  second  steps  of  this  scheme  were 
successfully  carried  out.  Early  in  April  the  con- 
dition of  things  at  Madrid  seomed  to  warrant  the 
third  step,  and  Don  Jose,  who  had  not  been  seen  in 
that  locality  for  several  months,  now  appeared,  and 
offered  Captain  Larkin  a  generous  sum  for  the  Anvil 
property.  This  proposition  was,  as  he  really  ex- 
pected it  would  be,  declined  ;  but  it  did  not  prevent 
his  creating  among  the  gefes  of  the  estate  the  im- 
pression that  the  plantation  might  be  sold  in  case 
war  was  actually  declared ;  and  this  was  really  all 
the  plotter  desired  to  accomplish  by  his  offer. 

Things  were  now  ripe  for  the  final  move,  and 
everything  worked  apparently  to  the  advantage  of 
the  schemers. 

War  was  declared  the  last  of  the  month ;  the 


A  DIABOLICAL  PLOT.  153 

American  consuls  left  their  posts  ;  many  citizens  of 
the  States,  doing  business  in  the  island,  thought  it 
wiser  to  sail  immediately  for  home  ;  the  enmity  be- 
tween the  Spanish  element  in  the  isle  and  the"  few 
Americans  that  remained  was  fanned  to  a  white 
heat ;  the  crime  contemplated  could  now  be  easily 
carried  out,  and  every  trace  of  it  lost. 

Late  on  the  evening  of  May  1st,  the  wily  Spaniard 
again  appeared  at  the  Anvil  "ranch.  To  the  district 
chiefs,  as  he  rode  through  the  plantation,  he  an- 
nounced that  Captain  Larkin  had  at  last  decided  to 
dispose  01  the  property,  and  on  the  morrow  would 
leave  for  San  Juan  to  complete  the  details  of  »the  sale. 

In  the  mansion  house  he  told  quite  another  story. 
It  was  that  Mr.  Swallow,  over  the  range,  had  con- 
sented to  sell  his  plantation,  and  desired  the  captain 
and  his  overseer  to  come  over  there  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  to  inventory  the  property. 

The  unsuspecting  gentlemen,  though  surprised  at 
this  sudden  freak  on  the  part  of  their  neighbor, 
readily  consented  to  render  him  the  service  asked, 
and  the  next  morning  rode  away  in  the  company  of 
the  Don. 

It  certainly  seemed  a  mutual  misfortune  when  the 
trio,  while  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  were  sud- 
denly surrounded  by  the  bandit  horde,  and  all  car- 
ried  off  as  captives  ;  nevertheless  four  days  later 
Don  Jose  returned  to  the  ranch,  called  together  the 
gefes,  and  exhibiting  his  papers  (which,  however, 
never  left  his  own  land),  proclaimed  himself  the  new 
owner  of  the  magnificent  property. 

But  there  was  to  be  a  factor  in  the  way  of  the 
completion  of  the  scheme  that  he  had  not  accounted 
for.  Within  an  hour  of  his  own  coming,  there 
arrived  a  messenger  from  San  Juan,  bringing  a  de- 
spatch for  the  captain  from  his  bankers. 

Receiving  the  man  alone,  the  Spaniard  explained 
that  Captain  Larkin  and  his  agent  had  both  been 


154        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

called  to  Humacao,  leaving  him  in  charge  of  the 
ranch  ;  and  then  he  opened  the  missive.  It  was  the 
cablegram  from  Bert  announcing  his  rescue  and 
speedy  arrival  at  the  island. 

Forced  to  act  quickly,  the  plotter  decided  that  it 
was  for  his  interest  that  the  messenger  should  not 
return  to  his  home  ;  and  he  therefore  detained  the 
fellow  long  enough  the  following  day  to  enable  him 
to  communicate  with  his  robber  band.  Then  the 
man  was  permitted  to  depart,  but  never  reached 
San  Juan  ! 

From  that  hour,  too,  the  road  between  the  capital 
city  and  the  mountains  was  kept  under  a  constant 
surveillance  by  the  brigands,  at  the  instigation  of 
their  leader  ;  and  the  attack  on  the  party  of  Mr. 
Swallow  was  in  reality  an  attempt  to  kill  the  boy 
who  accompanied  him. 

The  safe  arrival  of  the  lad  at  the  Anvil  on  the 
next  evening  was  due  to  the  sagacity  of  Mr. 
Swallow,  who  had  directed  the  guide  to  take  the 
boy  directly  over  the  mountain  range,  instead  of  by 
the  more  circuitous  but  usual  way  of  travel  between 
the  plantations.  So  he  escaped  the  men  who  were 
watching  for  him. 

But  even  this  possibility  had  been  provided  for, 
and,  as  we  have  already  seen,  Bert  fell  into  the  trap 
set  for  him,  and  was  soon  a  prisoner,  at  the  mercy 
of  a  man  who  would  stop  at  nothing  in  order  to 
accomplish  his  purpose. 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEARD.  155 


CHAPTEK  XXI. 

WHAT    BEKT    OVEKHEAKD. 

HAVING  become  satisfied  that  he  was  really  a 
prisoner,  Bert  decided  to  accept  the  fact  as  phil- 
osophically as  possible. 

"  If  I  cannot  get  out,  no  one  shall  get  in  without 
my  knowledge,"  he  decided,  then  he  looked  about 
the  chamber  for  something  to  barricade  the  door. 

In  one  corner  of  the  room  was  a  huge  chest,  made 
of  mahogany  wood,  and  so  heavy  he  could  scarcely 
lift  one  end  of  it.  It  had  no  lock,  and  as  he  ap- 
proached it  a  curiosity  seized  the  lad  to  see  what 
was  within  it.  Kaising  the  lid,  therefore,  he  ex- 
amined the  contents. 

There  were  clothing,  books,  papers,  and  a  cork- 
life-jacket,  so  like  the  one  in  his  own  luggage  the 
boy  knew  at  once  whose  property  he  was  beholding. 
It  belonged  to  the  old  sailor,  and  this  was  doubtless 
the  room  he  occupied  when  at  the  ranch. 

This  discovery  gave  Bert  a  home  feeling  he  had 
not  before  possessed,  and  did  more  than  comfort  his 
heart. 

"  I  am  where  I  have  a  right  to  be,"  he  thought. 
"This  house  is  father's,  if  he  is  still  living;  if  not, 
it  is  mine.  This  estate  is  mine ;  and  no  man  or  men 
shall  deprive  me  of  what  is  lawfully  mine,"  and 
with  the  thought  he  nerved  himself  to  meet  and 
overcome  whatever  he  might  be  called  to  encounter. 

His  examination  finished,  he  drew  the  chest 
slowly  and  carefully  along  until  it  was  against  the 


156  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

door.  But  not  yet  satisfied  \vith  his  barricade  he 
pushed  the  heavy  bedstead  over  against  the  chest,  so 
that  the  head-board  completely  covered  the  entrance, 
and  then  smiled  complacently.  Iso  one  could  enter 
there  without  his  knowing  of  it  in  time  to  defend 
himself. 

Then  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  windows. 
There  were  no  sashes  or  glass — a  light  screen-work 
taking  the  place  of  those  furnishings  so  indispensable 
in  a  colder  climate  ;  while  outside  the  screens  were 
the  shutters  of  heavy  plank,  and,  though  now 
fastened  without,  they  were  originally  arranged  so 
as  to  be  secured  firmly  from  within.  The  fasten- 
ings were,  moreover,  still  in  their  place,  and  going, 
therefore,  to  each  window  in  turn — there  were  four 
of  them — Bert  bolted  them  down  in  so  solid  a 
manner  they  could  not  be  opened  except  with  a 
force  and  noise  "  sufficient,"  as  he  facetiously  termed 
it,  "  to  awaken  the  dead." 

One  other  operation  completed  his  arrangements 
for  the  night.  Placing  a  small  stand  beside  the  bed, 
he  laid  his  revolver  upon  it  within  reach  of  his  hand, 
and  then,  without  undressing,  threw  himself  upon 
the  couch,  and  slept  soundly. 

The  night  passed  without  any  disturbance,  and 
the  sun  was  peeping  through  the  cracks  of  the 
closed  shutters  when  he  awoke.  Arising  he  first 
performed  his  morning  ablutions,  and  then  removed 
his  barricade  from  the  door. 

As  he  finished  this  task  there  was  the  tramp  of  a 
horse's  feet  in  front  of  the  house,  and  he  went  over 
to  the  window  nearest  the  sound  and  tried  to  look 
out.  By  pressing  the  shutter  slightly  he  obtained 
an  opening  that  enabled  him  to  see  the  horse,  which 
his  guide  of  the  day  before  had  ridden,  brought 
around  to  the  door.  A  moment  later  the  guide 
himself  appeared  from  the  rear  of  the  building,  and 
sprang  into  the  saddle. 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEARD.  157 

He  did  not,  however,  immediately  ride  away,  but 
seemed  to  be  Avaiting  for  something  or  some  one. 

Five  minutes  passed  ;  then  the  Spaniard  came  out 
of  the  house  and  handed  the  waiting  man  a  letter, 
saying,  as  he  did  so  : 

"  I  am  in  charge  here  now,  and  that  letter  will 
explain  everything  to  your  master.  It  also  tells  him 
I  will  now  look  out  for  the  boy,  and  send  him  to  his 
father,"  and  with  a  flourish  of  his  hand  he  indicated 
that  the  fellow  was  to  depart.  The  next  moment 
both  horse  and  rider  had  passed  out  from  the  watch- 
ing lad's  limited  vision. 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  half -hour  later  when  there 
were  steps  in  the  upper  hallway,  followed  by  a 
knock  at  the  door  ;  then  the  voice  of  the  Don  him- 
self said  : 

"  Breakfast,  Senor  Larkin." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Bert  replied  quickly  dropping  his 
pistol  into  his  jacket  pocket,  and  keeping  one  hand 
on  its  stock,  alert  for  whatever  might  now  trans- 
pire. 

The  door  was  immediately  unlocked  and  thrown 
wide  open,  and  in  the  opening  stood  the  Spaniard, 
smiling  and  bowing  politely  ;  but  back  of  him  stood 
two  powerful  men,  with  drawn  machetes  in  their 
right  hands,  and  cocked  pistols  in  their  left,  ready 
for  instant  use.  The  outlook  for  a  defense  under 
the  circumstances  was,  certainly,  not  very  reassuring. 

"  Pistol  !  "  demanded  the  Spaniard,  pointing  to 
the  pocket  in  which  the  lad- still  kept  his  right  hand. 

Bert  understood  what  he  meant  ;  the  absence  of 
the  revolver  from  the  belt,  which  had  been  taken 
from  the  chamber  the  night  before,  was  discovered, 
and  the  Don  wanted  it. 

Much  as  the  boy  hated  to  comply  with  the  re- 
quest he  saw  no  way  to  get  out  from  it,  and  with 
evident  reluctance  passed  the  weapon  over. 

The  man  received  it  with  thanks,  and  then  uttered 


158  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  one  word  :  "  Come  !  "  at  the  same  time  beckon- 
ing his  prisoner  to  follow  him. 

Bert  obeyed,  and  the  two  guards  stepped  quickly 
in  behind  them.  t 

Their  journey  was  simply  to  the  dining-room, 
where  an  excellent  breakfast  was  served,  the  host 
all  attention  to  the  needs  of  his  guest,  and  but  for 
the  presence  of  the  armed  men,  the  lad  would  have 
thought  his  imprisonment  a  dream. 

When  the  meal  was  over  the  Don  indicated  by 
pointing  to  the  hands  of  his  watch  that  the  boy 
could  have  a  half-hour  in  the  open  air  attended  by 
the  sentinels,  and  then  must  return  to  his  room. 

Thankful  for  the  respite  from  the  close  air  of  the 
chamber  the  lad  walked  up  and  down  in  front  of 
the  mansion  until  his  alloted  time  had  passed,  and 
then  went  quietly  back  up-stairs.  And  it  may  as 
well  be  said  here  as  elsewhere  that  so  long  as  Bert 
remained  at  the  ranch  this  order  of  things  was  re- 
peated at  each  meal-time  unless  Don  Jose  was  away. 
Then  his  food  was  served  him  in  his  cell,  as  he  soon 
called  .the  place  of  his  confinement,  and  alwaysAvith 
two  armed  men  in  attendance.  He  had  reason  to 
believe  also  that  the  house  was  never  left  without  a 
strong  guard. 

Day  after  day  passed.  The  prisoner  could  often 
hear  the  Spaniard  in  the  office  beneath  him,  and 
occasionally  caught  the  murmur  of  voices  as  he 
talked  with  his  men  or  his  visitors.  Anxious  to 
know  what  was  going  on,  and  especially  to  hear 
what  was  being  said,  the  boy  soon  devised  a  way  to 
gratify  both  desires. 

He  "remembered  that  the  ceiling  of  the  office  was 
of  boards,  and  so  was  the  floor  of  his  room.  Why 
not  then  cut  a  hole  through,  large  on  the  upper  and 
small  on  the  under  side,  so  as  to  give  him  a  view  of, 
and  enable  him  to  hear  what  was  said  in,  the  office? 
The  clasp-knife,  which  had  been  in  his  constant 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEARD.  150 

possession  since  his  shipwreck,  was  still  in  his 
pocket,  and  the  task  with  so  fine  a  blade  could  not 
be  impossible. 

The  more  he  thought  of  the  idea,  the  more  eager 
he  became  to  carry  it  out  ;  and  on  the  second  day 
of  his  imprisonment  the  work  was  begun. 

Cutting  away  only  at  such  times  as  he  knew  the 
office  had  no  occupant,  and  carefully  concealing  the 
chips  in  the  bottom  of  the  great  chest,  and  cover- 
ing the  hole  itself  with  a  large  rug  that  Avas  in  the 
room,  he  in  three  days  had  completed  his  task. 

The  opening  in  the  floor  of  his  room  was  large 
enough  to  allow  him  to  put  his  head  through  it.  and 
he  had  removed  the  piece  of  boarding  in  such  a  way 
that  it  could  be  replaced  when  the  hole  was  not  in 
use. 

The  opening  in  the  cedar  ceiling  was  an  inch  in 
diameter  at  its  beginning,  but  scarcely  larger  than  a 
pin  head  at  its  termination — that  it  might  not  be 
detected  from  below.  Yet  by  placing  an  eye  at  the 
aperture  a  fair  view  of  the  office  could  be  obtained  ; 
and  by  placing  the  ear  there  all  conversation  car- 
ried on  below  could  be  distinctly  heard. 

Several  days  passed  before  Bert  obtained  any  in- 
formation through  the  hole  that  was  of  any  special 
value  to  him  ;  but  on  the  evening  of  his  tenth  day 
at  the  ranch  he  heard  a  conversation  through  the 
aperture  that  more  than  repaid  him  for  all  the  labor 
he  had  performed. 

Just  at  night  there  came  to  his  ears  the  sound  of 
many  horsesr  feet.  Jumping  from  the  bed  on  which 
he  at  that  time  was  lying,  he  hurried  to  the  window, 
and  looked  out  through  the  widest  crack  of  its 
shutter.  All  he  could  see  was  armed  men  in  uniform 
dismounting  at  the  door,  but  from  what  he  later 
heard  he  ascertained  that  a  Spanish  cavalcade,  un- 
der command  of  a  colonel,  had  arrived  from  Huma- 
cao.  The  men  must  have  bivouacked  under  the 


160  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

surrounding  palms,  but  the  officer  was  domiciled 
with  Don  Jose  as  his  guest ;  and  after  supper  they 
were  closeted  in  the  office  for  a  long,  and,  to  the 
listening  lad,  a  most  important  conversation.  Some 
of  which  \ve  will  record  here  :  > 

"  You  were  a  long  time  coming,  Carlos,"  the  Don 
began,  when  he  and  his  visitor  had  lighted  their 
cigarettes. 

"  I  came  as  soon  as  1  could,"  answered  the  other, 
curtly.  "  I  was  in  San  Juan  when  your  messenger 
arrived  at  the  fort — was  called  there  and  repri- 
manded, too,  for  not  suppressing  your  cursed  bandits. 
The  trouble  grew  out  of  your  attacking  that  English- 
man over  the  mountain.  He  complained  to  his  con- 
sul, and  the  consul  went  before  the  Captain-General 
demanding  reparation.  I've  got  to  squelch  the 
rascals  soon,  or  lose  my  command.  That  is  why  I 
have  fifty  in  on  with  me  ;  and  yet  you  tell  me  I 
can't  hunt  them  down  now  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  his  host,  gloomily ;  "  and  all  be- 
cause Larkin  hasn't  and  won't  sign  those  papers. 
Neither  one  of  us  can  imitate  his  handwriting  well 
enough  to  answer  our  purpose,  and  we  must  force 
him  to  write  his  name,  or  all  our  work  is  lost." 

"  But  you  told  him  he  should,  die,  if  he  didn't 
give  us  his  signature  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  he  quietly  retorted,  that  in  all  prob- 
ability he  should  die  anyway,  and  he  preferred  to  die 
without  making  the  property  over  to  us." 

"  Plucky,  isn't  he?  "  remarked  the  colonel,  with 
something  like  admiration  in  his  tones.  "  I  wonder 
if  all  those  Americans  are  such  brave  fellows  !  I 
have  told  you  how  their  Admiral  smashed  our  fleet 
at  Manila,  without  losing  a  man  ;  and  they  are  now 
after  Cervera's  flotilla.  Should  they  serve  him  the 
same  way  what  can  our  nation  do  ?  Cuba,  this 
island,  all  our  colonies  will  become  theirs.  I  tell 
you  we  are  in  no  condition  to  fight  them  ;  as  sure 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEARD. 

as  they  send  an  army  here  they'll  win.  The  natives 
are  ready  to  receive  them  with  open  arms  now." 

"  I  know  it,"  Don  Jose  responded ;  "  and  that  is 
why  I  am  insisting  on  a  straight-deed  of  this  prop- 
erty from  the  captain.  Nothing  else  will  stand 
the  test  under  American  rule,  and  what  you  and  I 
want  to  do  is  to  be  prepared  even  for  that  emer- 
gency. We  don't  want  the  ranch  taken  from  us  and 
turned  over  to  the  American  heirs,  just  as  we  have 
it  within  our  grasp." 

"  And  ourselves  strung  up  for  a  pair  of  precious 
rascals."  chimed  in  the  officer,  with  a  laugh.  "  But, 
Jose,  what  is  this  new  factor  in  our  little  game,  you 
alluded  to  it  in  your  message  ?  "  ' 

"  The  captain's  son  has  turned  up,"  the  host  re- 
plied, telling  the  story  of  Bert's  coming,  and  then 
adding : 

"  He's  shut  up  now  in  the  room  above  us.  What 
shall  we  do  with  him  ? " 

"  Can't  he  hear  what  we  are  saying  ?  "  asked  the 
soldier,  apprehensively. 

"It  would  make  no  difference  if  he  did,"  laughed 
the  other ;  "  he  doesn't  know  a  word  of  Spanish. 
I've  had  a  hard  time  talking  with  him,  though  you 
know  I  picked  up  some  English  while  with  the 
captain." 

His  companion  assented,  and  then  there  was  a 
silence  for  some  time — long  enough  for  the  listening 
boy  to  raise  his  head  from  its  uncomfortable  posi- 
tion and  rub  the  back  of  his  strained  neck.  As  he 
did  so,  a  great  joy  was  welling  up  in  his  heart,  and 
he  murmured  softly  :  "  Father  is  alive !  All  I've 
got  to  do  is  to  find  him." 

The  conversation  was  now  resumed,  and  the  lad 
placed  his  other  ear  to  the  aperture,  thus  relieving 
himself  in  a  measure  from  his  former  cramped 
position. 

"  I  have  it,"  the  colonel  was  saying ;  "  it  is  certain 
u 


162        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

that  Ave  have  got  to  reach  the  captain  in  some  other 
way  than  through  himself — why  not  then  through 
this  boy  ?  Does  his  father  know  he  is  alive  and 
here?  "' 

"No,"  admitted  his  comrade. 

"  "Well,  we  can  make  two  hits  at  one  stroke," 
went  on  the  officer.  "  You  can  help  me  out  of  a 
bad  scrape,  and  force  the  captain  to  do  our  bidding." 

"  Explain  yourself,"  said  the  other. 

"  I'll  take  the  boy  down  to  Humacao  as  one  of 
the  brigands  whom  I  have  captured  ;  we'll  try  him, 
condemn  him,  and  report  him  to  headquarters. 
That  will  restore  me  to  favor  there,  and  keep  them 
quiet  for  at  least  a  month  longer,  especially  if  your 
band  makes  no  more  raids." 

"  Then  we'll  have  the  lad  write  a  note  to  his 
father  establishing  his  identity,  and  send  it  along 
with  a  copy  of  the  official  death-warrant  to  the 
captain,  so  he  can  see  what  a  fix  his  son  is  in. 
Finally,  we  will  offer  to  free  the  lad,  the  captain, 
and  Barnes,  and  give  them  a  safe  departure,  from, 
the  island  for  the  captain's  signature.  When  he 
knows  his  child's  life  is  at  stake,  he'll  give  in  surely." 

"  But  will  you  allow  them  to  go  ?  "  questioned 
Don  Jose,  incredulously. 

"  Of  course  not,"  retorted  the  colonel,  coolh7 ; 
"  what  is  one  more  lie  to  the  wickedness  you  and  I 
have  already  committed  ?  We'll  snap  off  the  heads 
of  the  three  Americans  as  if  they  were  centipedes  ; 
wipe  out  the  bandits  by  a  single  stroke,  and  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  our  labor  whether  the  home  govern- 
ment wins  or  loses." 

"  Excellent ! "  cried  his  fellow-plotter,  admir- 
ingly. "  But  you  may  as  well  have  several  prison- 
ers as  one.  It  will  all  aid  in  keeping  the  authorities 
at  San  Juan  quiet.  I  have  two  men  in  custody- 
messengers  from  the  captain's  bankers — that  can  be 
spared  as  well  as  not.  I'll  send  up  to  the  rendezvous 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEAED. 

tomorrow  for  them,  and  have  four  of  the  band 
escort  them  down.  You  can  place  your  men  so  as  to 
capture  all  six,  and  run  them  into  Humacao  with 
the  boy.  Seven  of  the  gang  at  one  haul  ought  cer- 
tainly to  satisfy  the  Captain-General  himself  that 
3rou  are  doing  your  best  to  disperse  the  marauders ; 
then,  if  there  are  no  further  raids  for  some  weeks — 
and  I  will  take  care  there  are  none — we  can,  with- 
out danger  of  interference,  perfect  our  scheme." 

"  Do  you  know,  Cousin  Jose,  I  really  believe,  take 
us  together,  there  never  were  such  a  pair  of  villains 
in  this  island  before,"  said  the  officer,  rolling  up  a 
fresh  cigarette. 

The  rest  of  their  conversation  for  the  evening 
was  devoted  to  the  details  of  the  plan  already 
formed.  Bert  listened  long  enough  to  ascertain  that 
his  transfer  to  the  fortress  at  Humacao  would  not 
take  place  under  two  days,  in  order  to  allow  the 
soldiers  ample  time  to  secure  the  other  prisoners ;  and 
to  know  that,  after  his  arrival  at  the  city,  his  trial, 
alontr  with  the  other  men,  would  be  allowed  to  pro- 
ceed in  the  regular  way — the  plotters  deeming  it  safer 
to  follow  this  course.  He  then  left  the  aperture, 
and,  throwing  himself  on  the  bed,  thought  over  the 
situation. 

There  was  little  chance  of  escaping  from  such  a 
body  of  soldiers.  But  would  he  not  in  the  court 
have  an  opportunity  to  establish  his  innocency? 
Kay,  more— could  he  not  tell  there  a  story,  which, 
sustained  by  such  witnesses  as  Mr.  Marines,  Mr.  Eal- 
ston,  and  Mr.  Swallow,  would  not  only  free  himself, 
but  lead  also  to  the  deliverance  of  his  father  and 
Mr.  Barnes? 

The  lad's  idea  of  a  court  was,  of  course,  based 
upon  what  little  he  knew  of  such  affairs  in  his  own 
land,  and,  believing  that  he  would  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  expose  the  schemers  in  the  coming  trial, 
he  was  not  only  willing  but  eager  to  meet  it, 


16-J.  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

But  he  miscalculated  Spanish  justice,  or  rather 
injustice  ;  the  trial  was  a  farce — the  mere  arraign- 
ment of  the  prisoners  in  a  bunch  before  Colonel 
Luzares  himself,  as  the  military  governor  of  the  dis- 
trict, and  his  condemnation  of  them  without  a  hear- 
ing ;  then  the  forwarding  of  this  decision  to  the 
authorities  at  the  capital,  who,  anxious  to  rid  them- 
selves of  a  band  of  men  that  were  causing  them  a 
great  deal  of  trouble,  promptly  returned  the  find- 
ings of  the  court  properly  indorsed — so  thirty  days 
later  Bert  found  himself  tried,  condemned,  and  sen- 
tenced to  be  shot  on  July  25th,  together  with  the  men 
who  had  been  brought  into  the  city  with  him,  and 
of  whom  two  were  as  innocent  of  crime  as  himself. 

Up  to  this  time  the  boy  had  occupied  a  cell  in 
common  with  his  fellow-prisoners,  but  was  now 
transferred  to  a  smaller  apartment  in  the  eastern 
end  of  the  fortification,  and  near,  as  it  soon  proved, 
the  colonel's  own  quarters. 

On  the  dav  following  the  transfer  the  commander, 
accompanied  by  an  interpreter  (for  he  still  supposed 
the  lad  did  not  understand  Spanish"),  visited  his 
younsr  prisoner.  Blandly  informing  the  boy  that 
his  life  was  now  in  his  hands,  he  directed  him  to 
write  a  note  to  his  father,  acquainting  him  of  the 
unfortunate  situation,  and  requesting  him  to  do  all 
he  could  to  save  him. 

"  What  good  will  it  do  me  ?  "  asked  Bert,  directly 
in  Spanish. 

The  officer  stared  at  the  youth  a  moment  as 
though  he  doubted  his  identity,  and  then  said  : 

"  It  will  save  your  life,  and  that  of  your  father." 

"  But  I  heard  you  tell  Don  Jose,"  retorted  the 
lad  coolly,  and  perhaps  imprudently,  "that  after 
father  had  signed  that  deed  all  three  Americans  were 
to  be  murdered  ;  and  knowing  what  I  do  from  your 
inhuman  trial  of  innocent  men,  I  can  fully  believe  it." 

The  fury  of  the  man  was  that  of  a  wild  beast. 


WHAT  BERT  OVERHEARD.  165 

Grasping  his  prisoner  by  the  shoulder,  he  hurled 
him  back  against  the  wall  with  a  force  that  nearly 
knocked  the  breath  out  of  him. 

"  What  else  do  you  know,  you  young  rascal  1 
You  speak  Spanish  as  well  as  I  do,  and  evidently 
have  overheard  altogether  too  much  for  your  own 
good." 

"I  know  enough  of  the  diabolical  s.cheme  you  and 
Don  Jose  are  trying  to  carry  out  to  hang  you 
both,"  responded  the  lad  without  flinching,  and 
glancing  at  the  interpreter,  who  stood  stolidly  at 
the  entrance  of  the  cell. 

The  colonel  saw  the  glance,  and  recognizing  for 
the  first  time  that  there  was  a  witness  to  the  inter- 
view, he  laughed,  saying  carelessly  :  "  You  dreamed 
it,  boy."  Then  to  the  man  he  added  sternly  : 

"  It  seems  your  services  are  not  needed  here ;  you 
may  go,  and  mark  you,  say  nothing  of  what  you 
have  heard  here,  if  you  value  your  life." 

The  fellow,  apparently  cowered  by  the  stern  com- 
mand, slunk  out  of  the  door  and  down  the  corridor, 
leaving  the  officer  and  prisoner  alone. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  write  my  father,  Colonel 
Luzares,"  Bert  now  said  with  dignity ;  "  but  I 
must  write  what  I  please,  and  then  leave  him  to  de- 
cide for  himself  about  signing  your  papers." 

Under  the  existing  circumstances  this  was  a 
heroic  speech,  but  the  heroism  displayed  won  the  day. 

"  Write  whatever  you  desire,"  the  officer  replied, 
with  a  shrug  of  his 'shoulders.  "Little  can  I  tell 
what  it  is,  and  Don  Jose  would  not  make  it  out 
much  better.  It  may  be  just  as  well,  too,  for  your 
father  to  know  the  whole  matter." 

"  Yery  well ;  send  me  the  paper,  and  I  will  write 
at  once,"  the  boy  promised. 

The  colonel,  bowing  politely,  withdrew,  and   ten 
minutes  thereafter  an  orderly,  about  Bert's  own  age 
size,  came  to  the  door  bringing  pens,  ink  and 


166         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

paper.     Thanking  him  for  the  articles,  the  lad  be- 
gan  the  letter. 

It  was  a  long  one,  beginning  with  the  sinking  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  telling  of  his  experiences  to  the 
moment  of  his  writing,  concluding : 

"  You  already  know,  father,  what  will  be  de- 
manded of  you,  and  I  want  you  to  act  as  seems  to 
you  wisest  in  the  light  of  what  I  have  told  you.  Of 
Don  Jose  I  have  no  hopes.  He  is  a  man  who  would 
put  even  Colonel  Luzares  out  of  the  way  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose.  But  in  the  colonel  I  have  more 
confidence,  and  wish  you  might  communicate  with, 
him  direct,  though  that  may  be  impossible. 

"  And  now,  should  we  never  see  each  other  in 
this  world,  and  no  other  communication  allowed 
between  us,  I  want  to  tell  you  that,  with  death  be- 
fore us,  I  am  glad  I  came  here  to  share  it  with  you. 
Love  to  yourself  and  Mr.  Barnes.  Good-by ! 

"  Your  own  boy, 

"  BERT." 

The  officer  came  himself  for  the  manuscript,  and 
made  no  comment  at  its  length  when  it  was  de- 
livered to  him. 

"  I  shall  send  it  to  your  father  to-day,"  he  simply 
remarked  as  he  left  the  cell,  "  and  he  will  be 
allowed  several  days  to  come  to  a  decision.  But  in 
about  a  week  we  should  know  the  issue." 

He  may  not  have  intended  to  comfort  the  lad,  or 
awaken  any  hope  in  his  heart ;  but  somehow  he  did. 

"  A  week ! "  the  boy  repeated  to  himself  when 
alone  ;  "  a  whole  week !  Much  may  happen  in  that 
time  to  prevent  those  rascals  from  carrying  out 
their  purpose ! " 

He  was  right ;  but  he  little  knew  in  what  way 
the  deliverance  was  to  come,  or  the  thrilling  ex- 
periences he  was  to  meet  with  before  it  was  fully 
accomplished, 


A  BOLD  MOVE.  167 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A    BOLD   MOVE. 

FELIPE  PEREGRINO,  the  man  whom  Colonel  Luzares 
brought  into  Bert  Larkin's  cell  to  act  as  interpreter, 
was  an  old  sailor  who  for  several  years  had  lived  at 
Humacao,  supporting  himself  and  family  by  serving 
in  the  courts  and  among  shipmasters  and  merchants 
as  an  oral  translator.  There  was  scarcely  a  country 
he  had  not  been  in,  and  remained  long  enough  to 
learn  its  vernacular — at  least  enough  of  it  to  make 
himself  intelligible  in  that  tongue. 

"  Find  old  Felipe,  and  he'll  talk  with  the  stranger, 
unless  he's  from  the  moon,"  was  a  current  saying 
in  the  commercial  circles  of  the  island  city  where 
he  dwelt. 

But  the  old  man  was  not  only  a  linguist ;  he  was 
keen  and  shrewd,  faithful  to  his  friends,  bitter 
towards  his  enemies,  and  in  common  with  all  the 
native  islanders  had  little  love  for  the  Spaniards. 

"When,  therefore,  he,  while  in  the  cell,  seemed  to 
be  stolidly  indifferent  to  the  conversation  between 
the  angry  officer  and  his  young  prisoner,  he  was 
really  listening  intently  to  every  word  ;  and  though 
he  departed  apparently  cowering  under  the  stern 
command  of  the  colonel,  that,  too,  was  only  pretense. 

Once  in  the  corridor,  his  attitude'  instantly 
changed ;  he  stood  erect,  his  eyes  flashed  with  a 
sudden  light,  and  he  acted  like  a  man  who  had 
resolved  upon  a  definite  and  resolute  purpose. 
Glancing  down  the  passage,  he  saw  the  guard  was 


168  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

at  the  extreme  end  of  his  beat,  and  so,  unnoticed, 
stepped  quickly  back  near  the  cell  door,  where  he 
heard  all  that  passed  between  the  commander  and 
the  imprisoned  lad.  But  the  officer  found  him  a 
fe\v  minutes  later  standing  meekly  at  the  door  o'f 
his  quarters,  waiting  for  the  usual  fee  he  received 
for  his  services. 

The  colonel,  however,  took  an  entirely  different 
view  of  the  matter. 

"You  have  rendered  no  service,"  he  declared; 
"  leave  the  fort  before  I  have  the  soldiers  throw  you 
out." 

He  was  promptly  obeyed,  but  there  was  a  menace 
in  every  step  the  departing  man  took,  and  when  be- 
yond the  limits  of  the  fortress,  he  turned  and  looked 
back  at  the  structure  as  though  measuring  every 
angle  and  nook  and  corner.  Finally  he  went  on 
muttering  : 

"  It  is  now  your  day,  Colonel  Luzares,  but  mine 
is  at  hand.  Old  Felipe  knows  a  thing  or  two  you 
little  dream  of." 

On  the  following  morning  the  old  interpreter  was 
not  to  be  found  in  his  usual  haunts,  but  lay  beneath 
a  huge  gum  tree  a  mile  out  of  the  city,  and  in  a 
position  which  gave  him  a  full  view  of  the  road 
leading  towards  the  Luguillo  Mountains. 

One  hour,  two  hours  passed,  and  though  he 
smoked  his  cigarettes  in  the  indolent,  unhurried 
manner  of  the  true  islander,  he  was  really  alert,  and 
not  a  single  traveler  left  the  city  or  came  along  the 
road  without  his  closest  scrutin}'-. 

By  and  by  his  patience  was  rewarded,  and  a  horse- 
man, wearing  the  uniform  of  the  Spanish  soldier, 
came  out  of  the  town,  and  rode  rapidly  up  the 
highway  towards  him.  It  was  evidently  the  person 
the  interpreter  was  looking  for ;  springing  to  his  feet 
he  sauntered  down  the  road  so  as  to  intercept  him. 

As  they  met,  he  saluted  the  rider,  and  exclaimed ; 


A  BOLD  MOVE.  169 

"  Good  morning,  Benito,  you  are  out  early  to-day, 
and  must  have  a  long  journey  before  you." 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Felipe,"  the  orderly  returned ;  "  the 
colonel  has  sent  me  up  to  the  Anvil  with  a  message." 

"  That  is  Captain  Larkin's  place,  isn't  it  ? "  he 
asked,  innocently. 

"  It  was,  but  Don  Jose  Sardinas  has  bought  it, 
and  it  is  to  him  I  carry  the  letter." 

"  How  long  since  ?  "  the  interpreter  questioned  in 
well-feigned  surprise. 

"  Two  months  or  more,"  responded  the  horseman ; 
"  at  least  the  Don  was  in  possession  when  we  made 
the  raid  on  the  bandits." 

"  That  young  American  I  was  called  to  see  yes- 
terday is  a  queer  one,"  the  old  man  went  on  con- 
fidentially. "  The  colonel  supposed  he  couldn't  talk 
Spanish,  and  he  knew  it  as  well  as  you  or  I.  Do 
you  think  of  his  name  ?  " 

No  one  would  have  thought  the  inquirer  took  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  answer,  and  yet  he  waited 
eagerly,  almost  impatiently,  for  it. 

"I  heard  the  roll  called  at  the  trial,"  the  orderly 
answered,  "and  it  was  put  down  as  Bertanni 
Larkinos.  What  would  that  be  in  English  ? " 

"  Bert  Larkin,"  replied  the  interpreter  promptly. 
Then  he  ventured  to  become  even  more  confidential 
with  his  companion.  "  I  think,  Benito,  he  is  Cap- 
tain Larkin's  son,  and  that  there  is  some  conspiracy 
against  Him  and  his  father.  The  lad  accused  the 
colonel  of  it  yesterday." 

The  orderly  looked  about  him.  He  and  Felipe 
were  alone.  Lowering  his  voice  he  said : 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  uncle ;  there  is 
something  strange  about  this  matter.  The  young 
American  wasn't  captured  by  the  troops,  but  was 
already  a  prisoner  in  Don  Jose's  house.  We  all 
thought  the  Don  had  caught  him  a  few  days  before, 
and  then  turned  him  over  to  the  colonel.  Of  course 


170        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

it  might  have  been  so ;  but  I  like  the  lad,— he's  a 
brave  fellow — not  a  complaint  out  of  him — and  I 
can't  bear  to  see  him  die." 

"  You  have  a  kind  heart,  Benito,  like  your  mother 
and  aunt,  my  wife.  Neither  can  bear  to  see  even  a 
chicken  die.  But,  lad,  keep  your  eyes  open,  and  on 
your  return  report  to  me.  I  o\ve  too  much  to 
Captain  Larkin  to  see  him  or  his  son  in  trouble  and 
not  help. 

"  Then,  Benito,  our  island  will  soon  be  in  the 
hands  of  the  Americans.  You  know  how  Cervera's 
fleet  was  sunk  as  so  many  cockle  shells  but  a  few 
days  ago.  Santiago  de  Cuba  is  reported  as  fallen. 
An  army  of  invasion  will  soon  be  here,  and  the 
people  are  ready  to  receive  them  with  open  arms. 
Though  your  father  was  a  Spaniard,  lad,  your 
mother  is  an  islander;  you  were  born  here,  and 
your  true  place  is  to  stand  with  the  Americans." 

The  orderly's  cheeks  flushed.  "  I  cannot  be  dis- 
honorable, Uncle  Felipe,"  he  said ;  "  you  have  your- 
self taught  me  to  be  true  to  duty ;  but  if  there  is 
conspiracy — and  the  colonel  and  Don  Jose  are 
villains — that  is  different.  You  can  count  on  me. 
But  I  must  be  on  my  way.  Buenos  dias,  senor  •  " 
and  he  galloped  off  up  the  road. 

"I  can  depend  on  him,"  the  old  man  muttered, 
looking  after  the  disappearing  horseman ;  "  now 
for  the  other  side  of  this  affair.  The  young  prisoner 
is  surely  Captain  Larkin's  son — his  name  proves  it 
— and  there  is  some  deviltry  to  pay  between  the 
colonel  and  that  Don  Jose.  But  I'll  ferret  it  out  as 
sure  as  I  am  Felipe  Peregrine.  But  how  ?  that's 
the  question,"  and  he  went  back  towards  the  city  in 
deep  thought. 

Five  days  and  five  nights  passed.  No  one  came 
near  Bert  except  his  guards,  and  they  only  when  in 
the  regular  discharge  of  their  duties.  Yet  he  was 
in  no  sense  despondent. 


A  BOLD  MOVE. 

It  may  be  he  was  confident  that  the  father  he  had 
never  seen  would,  now  that  he  knew  all  about  the 
plot,  find  some  way  to  outwit  the  perpetrators. 
Possibly  his  faith  went  higher  and  rested  in  Him 
who  is  a  shield  and  a  refuge  to  the  innocent  and 
guiltless.  Whatever  the  cause,  he  was  serene  and 
hopeful. 

On  the  fifth  night  he  was  awakened  by  what 
seemed  to  be  sounds  of  digging  near  one  corner  of 
his  cell.  So  distinct  and  regular  was  the  noise  he 
jumped  from  his  rude  bed,  went  over  to  that  part 
of  the  room,  and,  putting  his  head  close  to  the 
stone  floor,  listened  intently.  There  was  doubt  as  to 
the  fact,  but  in  the  attitude  he  now  was,  the  sounds 
seemed  farther  away,  and  beyond  the  wall  of  his 
apartment.  Could  it  be  some  prisoner  was  tunnel- 
ing his  way  out  of  the  fort  ? 

The  lad  had  read  of  such  things,  and  with  a  de- 
termination that,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  he  would 
examine  his  own  cell  with  a  view  to  such  an  at- 
tempt, he  went  back  to  his  pallet  of  straw. 

When  he  again  awoke  the  noise  had  ceased ;  but 
he  did  not  forget  his  resolve,  and,  after  a  scanty 
breakfast,  began  his  investigations. 

The  room  was  about  ten  by  twelve  feet  in  size. 
The  north  side  opened  upon  the  corridor  ;  the  east 
was  a  part  of  the  outer  wall  of  the  fort,  and  high  up 
from  the  floor  was  the  narrow  opening  through 
which  came  the  fresh  air  that  made  the  cell  endur- 
able ;  the  south  and  west  sides  were,  as  the  boy  then 
believed,  the  partitions  between  his  own  and  other 
cells.  All  these  walls  were  of  solid  stone,  tightly 
cemented  together,  and  there  seemed  no  probability 
of  working  a  passage  through  any  of  them. 

He,  therefore,  turned  his  attention  to  the  floor ; 
this,  as  previously  intimated,  was  formed  from  stone 
flagging  or  slabs,  about  three  feet  long  and  eighteen 
inches  wide.  Of  their  thickness  he  could  not  judge 


172  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

until  he  had  worked  out  the  cement  between  two 
of  them  ;  and  this  he  decided  should  be  his  first 
task. 

It  was  over  in  the  southwest  corner  of  the  cell 
that  he  had  heard  the  sound  of  digging  the  previous 
night,  and  here  he  made  a  close  examination  of  the 
slab.  It  could  not  be  removed  as  the  partition  wall 
rested  upon  it  in  part ;  and  this  was  true  of  the 
whole  row  of  flagging  down  the  west  side  of  the 
room. 

Satisfied  he  could  do  nothing  with  that  course  of 
slabs,  Bert  examined  the  second  row,  two  feet  and 
a  half  out  from  the  partition.  The  first  stone  was 
firmly  secured  by  the  wall  of  the  south  side ;  but 
the  second  stone,  sixteen  inches  from  the  south  wall, 
and  two  feet  six  inches  from  the  west  wall,  was 
clear  of  all  obstruction,  and  when  the  cement  was 
once  dug  out  ought  to  be  easily  removed.  He 
marked  it,  therefore,  as  the  place  for  his  attack. 

Impatiently  he  waited  for  the  night,  and  when  all 
chance  of  detection  from  the  guard  was  obviated  by 
the  darkness,  he  commenced  his  work. 

The  only  thing  left  to  him  of  all  his  possessions 
was  his  clasp-knife,  and,  doubtless,  this  would  have 
been  taken  from  him  but  for  its  use  in  cutting  up 
his  prison  rations.  It  now  became  the  tool  by  which 
he  was  to  loosen  the  slab  of  stone. 

Slowly  he  toiled  away  at  about  the  center  of  the 
narrow  crevice,  and  though  he  found  it  harder  labor 
than  cutting  through  cedar  boards,  he  at  length 
cleared  an  opening  the  thickness  of  his  knife  blade, 
and  could  run  the  slender  steel  back  and  forth  with- 
out touching  any  obstacle.  As  near  as  he  could  es- 
timate the  slab  was  about  two  inches  thick. 

An  opening  once  formed  he  progressed  more 
rapidly,  and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  had  the  west  edge 
of  the  flagging  all  clear.  Anxious  to  know  how 
deep  the  space  below  the  floor  was,  he  now  unrav- 


A  BOLD  MOVE. 

eled  a  part  of  one  of  his  stockings,  and  tying  a  bit 
of  mortar  to  one  end  of  the  yarn,  lowered  it  through 
the  crevice.  It  did  not  go  twelve  inches  before  it 
struck  what  appeared  to  be  soft  dirt. 

"  I  shall  have  to  dig  my  way  out,  when  I  have 
raised  the  stone,"  he  muttered,  "  and  that  may  be  a 
matter  of  days.  Never  mind,  it  gives  me  something 
to  do,  and  is  better  than  this  tiresome  inactivity." 

He  now  began  work  on  the  upper  edge  of  the 
stone,  and  in  another  hour  had  dug  out  the  mortar. 
Stopping  to  rest  his  aching  arms^  he  caught  the  same 
sound  of  digging  he  had  heard  the  night  before. 
Placing  his  ear  to  the  lower  edge  of  the  slab  he 
listened  for  some  minutes,  and  then  was  satisfied  of 
two  things  :  Some  one  was  cautiously  working  below 
him  with  both  pick  and  shovel  •  and  was  steadily 
coming  his  way.  As  this  direction  was  towards  the 
east  or  outer  wall  of  the  fort  his  natural  conclusion 
was  that  some  prisoner  had  managed  to  secure  the 
necessary  tools  and  was  making  his  way  under  the 
floor  to  the  outer  world. 

"  I  have  but  to  loosen  this  stone,"  the  lad  thought, 
"  and  join  the  man  in  his  undertaking,  and  we  shall 
both  be  free." 

Animated  by  this  idea  he  started  down  one  of  the 
long  sides  of  the  slab,  removing  the  cement  as  rapidly 
as  possible.  As  soon  as  he  worked  his  knife  through 
the  mortar,  he  ran  the  blade  down  to  the  beam  or 
pillar  on  which  the  stone  rested.  He  had  been  right 
in  his  estimation.  The  flagging  was  barely  two 
inches  through,  and  with  the  help  of  the  man  below, 
if  lie  could  only  attract  his  attention,  could  easily 
be  lifted  out  of  its  place. 

Before  the  side  of  the  stone  was  cleared,  however, 
a  glimmer  of  a  light  came  up  through  the  crevice  at 
the  west  edge  of  the  slab.  This  surprised  the  lad 
more  than  the  fact  that  the  worker  had  a  shovel  and 
pick.  It  told  of  a  thoroughness  of  preparation  which 


174  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

hardly  seemed  possible  to  any  prisoner.  "Who  could 
the  laborer  be?  And  what  was  his  object? 

As  the  puzzled  boy  waited,  tn'ing  to  answer  the 
questions  his  brain  had  propounded,  there  came  a 
light  tap  on  the  slab  just  below  him,  as  though  some 
one  was  testing  its  firmness.  Taking  his  knife  by 
the  blade  Bert  lightly  tapped  the  stone  at  the  same 
spot  where  it  hail  been  struck  from  below,  and  in- 
stantly the  sound  of  digging  ceased. 

The  lad  now  tapped  softly  three  times  on  the 
stone,  and  cautiously  it  was  answered  from  below. 
Putting  his  mouth  to  the  nearest  crevice  Bert  whis- 
pered :  "  Hello !  "  As  distinctly  came  the  same 
word  :  "  Hello,"  and  then  the  digging  was  resumed. 
But  of  one  thing  the  prisoner  was  entirely  satisfied : 
the  laborer  was  his  friend. 

He,  therefore,  resumed  his  own  work,  and  more 
than  an  hour  passed  before  either  one  of  the  toilers 
paused  for  communication.  In  fact,  though  the  light 
constantly  grew  brighter  and  the  sounds  nearer, 
Bert  did  not  stop  his  labor  until  there  came  a  tap 
on  the  stone  he  was  trying  to  loosen.  Then  a  voice 
said  in  good  English  : 

"  Look  out !     I'm  going  to  raise  the  slab." 

This  was  followed  by  a  strong,  steady  push,  and 
almost  without  noise,  the  stone  lifted.  Catching 
hold  of  it  the  lad  turned  it  over,  and  let  it  drop 
softly  down  upon  the  floor ;  then  putting  his  head 
through  the  opening  he  eagerlv  asked  : 

"Who  are  you!" 

"  Felipe,  the  interpreter,"  wTas  the  reply  ;  "  and 
you  are  Bert  Larkin  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  the  boy  assented.  "  Can  I  come  down 
where  you  are  ?  " 

"  Not  quite  yet.  But  cover  the  hole  with  some- 
thing so  my  light  won't  attract  the  attention  of 
any  one  in  the  corridor.  I'll  call  you  when  all  is 
ready." 


A  BOLD  MOVE.  175 

Bert  drew  his  pallet  of  straw  over  to  the  spot, 
and  covered  the  hole  with  it.  Then  he  waited. 

Never  had  time  seemed  so  long  before.  Seconds 
seemed  minutes,  and  minutes  hours,  so  impatient 
was  he;  and  yet  it  was  not  over  ten  minutes  before 
the  bed  was  cautiously  lifted,  and  the  man  said  : 

k'  Put  the  bed  back  in  its  place ;  brush  the  mortar 
off  the  floor  into  the  hole ;  then  fix  the  slab  so  we 
can  drop  it  back  into  its  place." 

When  these  things  were  done,  the  interpreter 
added  : 

"  Now  come." 

Silently  the  boy  crept  through  the  hole.  The 
excavation  was  large  enough  for  him  and  his  libera- 
tor to  stand  side  by  side  and  without  noise  the  stone 
was  allowed  to  drop  into  its  place. 

"Follow  me,"  the  man  said,  crawling  into  the 
mouth  of  the  tunnel.  Bert  obeyed,  finding  that 
twenty  feet  away  it  emerged  into  a  narrow  passage, 
running  between  high  massive  walls,  and  covered 
over  with  solid  masonry,  perhaps  ten  feet  above 
their  heads. 

He  looked  questioningly  at  his  companion. 

"  It  is  the  underground  route  out  of  the  fort," 
Felipe  explained  in  low  tones,  "  it  starts  from  the 
colonel's  quarters  just  beyond  your  cell,  and  runs 
down  to  a  secluded  cove  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
fortress.  Come  on  !  " 

He  took  up  his  tools  and  dark  lantern,  which  had 
been  removed  to  this  point  before  he  bade  Bert 
leave  his  room,  and  led  the  way  down  the  passage. 
They  had  gone  about  two  hundred  yards  when  they 
came  into  a  natural  cavern,  whose  floor  was  the 
ocean  waves.  Along  the  edge  of  the  water  they 
went  then  into  a  narrow,  winding  gorge,  above 
which  could  be  seen  the  sparkling  stars,  and  at 
length  reached  the  little  land-locked,  secluded  inlet 
of  which  the  guide  had  spoken. 


1Y6        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Here  there  was  a  boat  moored,  and  motioning  his 
companion  to  get  in,  the  rescuer  turned  off  his  light, 
put  in  his  tools,  and  unfastened  the  craft.  Then 
he,  too,  embarked,  and  taking  up  the  oars  rowed 
fearlessly  across  the  sea  towards  a  point  where  tlje 
glimmering  lights  revealed  the  town. 

Undetected  and  unchallenged  they  approached 
a  wharf,  and  fastening  the  yawl  to  a  ring  in  its  side, 
the  interpreter  carried  his  oars  and  tools  to  a  small 
building  near  by,  where  he  locked  them  up.  After 
which  he  led  the  boy  through  several  streets  stop- 
ping finally  before  a  small  house,  where  they  en- 
tered. 

They  were  met  by  an  old  lady  to  whom  the  man 
said  : 

"  Marie,  this  is  the  boy.  I  told  you  I  should  bring 
him  to-night.  Have  you  his  room  and  clothes 
ready  ? " 

"  Yes,  Felipe,"  she  answered.  "  Come,  Mr.  Lar- 
kin." 

"  One  Avord,  sir,  before  I  go,"  Bert  now  cried  im- 
pulsively. "Tell  me  why  at  such  a  risk  to 'your- 
self you  have  rescued  me  ?  " 

"  For  your  father's  sake,"  the  man  replied.  "  But 
go  bathe,  and  change  your  clothing,  of  which  there  is 
sad  need.  Then  Marie  will  have  food  ready  for  us, 
and  we'll  talk  as  \ve  eat." 

He  was  led  up-stairs  to  a  small,  barely  furnished 
room,  where  he  found  everything  necessary  for  a 
thorough  bath,  and  coarse  but  serviceable  clothing 
that  fitted  him  as  though  made  for  him. 

His  clean  garments  were  scarcely  on  when  he 
was  called  into  an  adjoining  room  where  a  hearty 
repast  of  cold  meat,  bread,  and  fruit  was  on  the 
table ;  and  he  and  his  liberator  ate  of  it,  with  ap- 
petites sharpened  by  their  toil  and  journey. 

"  My  story  is  brief,"  the  man  said,  as  they  began 
to  eat.  "  I  "heard  your  talk  with  the  colonel,  and 


A  BOLD  MOVE.  177 

knew  there  was  a  plot  against  your  father  and  your- 
self. I  owe  much  to  Captain  Larkin.  Twice  in 
my  life  as  a  sailor  he  has  proved  my  friend.  Felipe 
Peregrine  forgets  no  favor,  and  no  wrong.  In  this 
case  it  was  a  favor ;  but  to  know  the  captain's 
need  and  how  I  could  serve  him  I  was  compelled 
to  liberate  you.  That  part  of  my  work  is  done. 
Show  me  how  I  can  serve  }rour  father?"  The 
lad  without  hesitation  told  of  the  plot  he  had 
discovered,  and  all  that  he  knew  of  his  father's  sit- 
uation. 

During  the  recital  the  listener  broke  out  in  re- 
peated imprecations  against  the  men  who  had  dared 
to  undertake  such  a  scheme,  and  when  Bert  had 
finished,  he  exclaimed : 

"  We  shall  find  the  captain,  and  liberate  him  ! 
He  shall  ride  in  triumph  over  his  enemies  !  Wait 
until  I  see  Benito,  the  young  orderly  again  !  I  may 
learn  something  of  him.  Then  we'll  start  for  the 
mountains." 

It  was  already  the  small  hours  of  the  morning, 
and  the  tired  but  happy  boy  was  sent  to  his  cham- 
ber with  the  direction  not  to  leave  it  unless  called  ; 
in  ten  minutes  he  was  fast  asleep. 

It  was  well  into  the  following  night  before  he  saw 
the  old  interpreter  again.  WThen  he  did  come,  how- 
ever, he  brought  two  bits  of  news :  Bert's  escape 
had,  of  course,  been  discovered,  and  the  manner  of 
it ;  but  it  was  believed  he  had  tunneled  out  without 
help,  so  no  suspicion  rested  on  Felipe.  Then  Benito 
the  orderly  was,  on  the  following  morning,  going  up 
to  the  Anvil  with  a  message  from  Don  Jose  to  come 
to  Humacao  at  once  for  a  consultation  with  Colonel 
Luzares,  who,  under  imperative  orders  from  the 
capital,  dare  not  leave  his  post  long  enough  for  even 
so  brief  a  trip. 

When  Bert  heard  this  latter  item  he  proposed  a 
move  so  bold  and  daring  that  at  first  it  startled  the, 
iz 


178  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

old  interpreter  ;  but  after  a  careful  consideration  he 
agreed  to  carry  it  out. 

It  was  to  seize  Don  Jose  and  hold  him  as  a  hostage 
for  Captain  Larkin's  safety.  Their  preparations 
were  soon  made,  and  when  morning  dawned  they 
were  miles  on  their  way  towards  the  Anvil  to  carry 
the  plan  into  execution. 


AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  RAID.  179 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

AN    UNSUCCESSFUL   RAID. 

IN  a  little  ravine  through  which  the  road  ran 
from  Humacao  to  the  Anvil,  and  not  over  five  miles 
from  the  mansion  house  itself,  two  travelers  were 
halted.  One  of  them  was  our  young  hero  and  the 
other  the  old  man  Felipe. 

It  was  not  yet  noon,  and,  after  allowing  their 
horses  to  drink  from  the  sparkling  stream  that 
rippled  through  the  dell,  they  led  the  beasts  into  the 
surrounding  forest  until  they  were  concealed  from 
the  view  of  any  one  who  might  be  passing,  where 
they  hitched  them.  Then  Bert  threw  himself  down 
under  the  shade  of  an  adjacent  tree,  where  he  could 
keep  an  eye  on  the  animals,  while  his  companion 
returned  to  the  highway. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  after  these  preparations 
another  horseman  came  over  the  hill  from  the  south 
and  descended  at  a  sharp  trot  into  the  gorge.  He 
saw  the  waiting  man,  and  with  no  show  of  surprise, 
remarked : 

"I'm  here,  Uncle  Felipe;  lead  on." 

The  old  man  entered  the  brush,  followed  by  the 
trooper,  and  they  joined  Bert  who  greeted  the  new- 
comer cordially. 

A  package  on  the  saddle  of  one  of  the  hitched 
horses  was  now  unstrapped  and  opened,  disclosing 
an  abundant  supply  of  food.  Of  this  the  three  com- 
rades hurriedly  ate,  and  then,  as  though  pre-ar- 
ranged, Felipe  and  the  orderly  exchanged  clothing  ; 


180  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

after  which  the  former,  mounting  his  horse,  rode  off 
alone  towards  the  Anvil  ranch. 

There  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  or  attitude 
when,  an  hour  later,  he  galloped  up  to  the  mansion 
house  that  proclaimed  him  otherwise  than  what  he 
pretended  to  be — a  messenger  from  Colonel  Carlos 
Luzares  with  a  letter  for  Don  Jose  Sardinas. 

He  was  received  by  the  latter  gentleman  court- 
eously though  somewhat  haughtily,  and  shown  to 
the  office,  where  the  missive  he  brought  was  opened. 

The  brow  of  the  Don  darkened  as  he  read  it. 

"  So  that  boy  has  escaped,"  he  cried,  looking 
savagely  at  the  waiting  orderly  as  though  he  was  to 
blame  for  this  unfortunate  circumstance. 

"  Yes,  seiior  ;  but  he  will  surely  be  retaken,"  the 
man  answered,  respectfully. 

"  No  doubt  of  that,"  the  Spaniard  responded,  his 
anger  mollified  by  this  thought.  "  But  to  another 
matter ;  this  note  says  I  am  to  come  to  Humacao  at 
once  with  you." 

"  Certainly,  seiior,  if  you  will  furnish  me  with  a 
fresh  horse." 

"  I  will  order  dinner  for  you  immediately,  and, 
while  you  eat,  the  horses  will  be  brought  to  the 
door,"  promised  Don  Jose.  "In  an  hour  we  can  be 
on  our  way." 

It  was  less  than  that  time  when  they  trotted 
briskly  away  from  the  house  ;  and  still  early  in  the 
afternoon  when  they  rode  into  the  little  ravine  five 
miles  to  the  south. 

As  they  began  the  descent  a  lad,  plainly  seen  by 
them  both,  was  sitting  by  the  brook  bathing  his  face 
with  the  cool  water  ;  but,  as  he  descried  the  coming 
horseman,  he  quickly  leaped  to  his  feet,  and  disap- 
peared in  the  forest. 

"  Holy  Mother !  I  believe  that  was  the  escaped 
prisoner,"  the  Don's  attendant  cried. 

"  It  was,"  shouted  the  Spaniard.     "  After  him  \  " 


AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  RAID.  181 

He  himself  led  the  way,  and  rode  fearless!^  into 
the  brush  after  the  fleeing  lad.  A  few  rods  in  the 
'woods  he  overhauled  him,  and,  leaping  from  his 
horse,  he  drew  his  machete,  saying : 

"  It's  no  use ;  I  have  you  now,  surrender !  " 

He  raised  his  weapon  to  strike  the  boy,  if  he 
resisted,  but  quickly  allowed  the  uplifted  knife  to 
fall  to  his  side,  unused.  There  was  wisdom  in  his 
act,  as  Bert — for  it  was  indeed  he — held  a  cocked 
pistol  within  a  few  feet  of  the  man's  breast,  and 
replied  coolly  in  Spanish : 

"  I  think  not,  Don  Jose.  In  fact  I  know  it  is  the 
other  way.  You  are  my  prisoner." 

At  the  same  moment  a  pair  of  strong  arms  were 
thrown  about  the  baffled  Spaniard,  and  he  was  borne 
to  the  ground,  while  a  voice  said  lowly  and  suavel y  : 

"  We  are  sorry,  Don,  to  use  you  in  this  way  ;  but 
it  is  no  worse  than  you  have  served  Captain  Larkin." 

As  he  spoke  Felipe  put  one  knee  on  his  prisoner's 
breast,  and,  assisted  by  Bert,  first  disarmed,  and 
then  firmly  bound  him  with  cords  that  the  lad  had 
in  readiness. 

"  Secure  his  horse,  while  I  go  for  mine,"  the  old 
interpreter  now  said. 

He  returned  in  a  few  minutes,  leading  his  horse 
which  he  had  left  in  the  road  when  he  followed  the 
Don  into  the  forest.  Then  he  said  in  English  : 

"•  So  far  your  little  scheme,  lad,  has  worked  like 
magic ;  now  we'll  examine  the  fellow's  bag. 

It  was  taken  from  his  horse,  and  opened.  Within 
was  a  bundle  of  papers  which  the  man  and  boy 
eagerly  examined. 

First  was  the  deed  of  the  ranch,  still  unsigned  by 
Captain  Larkin,  and  as  Bert  beheld  it  he  cried 
exultingly : 

"  I'll  make  sure  it  is  never  signed,"  and  tearing 
it  in  pieces,  he  applied  a  match  to  the  fragments, 
which  were  soon  consumed. 


182  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

A  second  paper  was  a  carefully  drawn  plan  of  the 
bandit  rendezvous  and  the  way  to  it  ;  on  the  margin 
there  was  also  a  list  of  the  remaining  members  of 
the  gang  —  twelve  in  all. 

"  And  this  shows  us  just  where  father  is,  and 
how  to  find  him,''  our  hero  said,  as  he  and  Felipe 
finished  their  examination  of  the  manuscript. 

"  It  surely  does,  lad  ;  we  are  in  luck,"  responded 
his  comrade. 

But  there  was  a  third  paper  —  a  letter  written  to 
Colonel  Luzares  in  Spanish,  but  which  Felipe  easily 
read.  It  announced  that  Captain  Larkin  had  con- 
sented to  sign  the  deed  on  condition  that  he  be  al- 
lowed to  look  upon  and  converse  with  the  son  he 
had  never  yet  seen. 

"  lie  says,"  the  cruel  note  went  on,  "  that  he  is 
willing  to  give  every  dollar  he  has  for  this  privilege, 
but  must  see  the  boy  before  he  signs  his  name.  So 
send  the  lad  to  me,  and  I  will  take  him  to  his  father. 
Then  you,  following  the  directions  I  enclose,  can 
sweep  down  on  the  rendezvous  with  your  squad  and 
wipe  out  the  gang  and  their  prisoners  together." 

"  There,  that  will  surely  convince  Mr.  Swallow 
of  Don  Jose's  guilt,"  Bert  said  on  reading  it  ; 
"  come,  Felipe,  the  sooner  we  start  for  his  planta- 
tion the  better." 

"  Yes,"  assented  his  companion,  "  but  wait  until 
I  get  your  horse  and  send  Benito  away." 

He  disappeared  in  the  woods,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  were  heard  on  the 
road,  hastening  towards  Humacao.  It  was  the 
young  orderly,  and  he  bore  a  note  written  in  Span- 
ish by  Felipe,  but  signed  by  Bert,  which  read  : 


THE  ANVIL,  July  26th. 
"  COLONEL  LUZARES, 

"  I  am  not  only  free,  but  Don  Jose  is  my  pris- 
oner,    The  tables  are  turned,  and  with  friends  to 


AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  RAID.  183 

help  me,  I  expect  soon  to  see  my  father  liberated 
and  yourself  a  prisoner  in  your  own  fortress. 

"  BEET  LABKIN." 

At  sunset  Benito  reported  to  his  commanding 
officer  as  follows — a  truthful  statement  on  his 
part : 

"  I  did  not  find  the  Don,  but  this  letter  was  given 
me  to  deliver  to  you." 

The  Colonel's  cheek  blanched  as  he  read  the  brief 
missive,  but  what  he  would  have  said  or  clone  is 
unknown,  for  at  that  instant  another  orderly  arrived 
at  the  fort  with  official  despatches  from  San  Juan, 
directing  that  the  entire  Spanish  force  under  the 
chagrined  officer's  charge  be  prepared  to  march  for 
the  south  shore  at  a  moment's  notice,  as  United 
States  troops  had  sailed  for  the  island  and  might 
land  at  any  hour. 

So  his  private  affairs  had  to  be  set  aside  for  the 
general  good,  and,  with  a  smothered  imprecation  at 
what  he  called  an  accursed  fate,  the  unhappy  com- 
mander turned  his  attention  to  the  assigned  duty. 
His  marching  orders  reached  him  on  the  following 
davr,  and  the  execution  of  the  prisoners  under  his 
care  was,  therefore,  indefinitely  postponed,  while 
he  at  the  head  of  his  troops  led  the  way  to  Caguas, 
where  he  would  strike  the  great  military  road  run- 
ning between  San  Juan  and  Ponce. 

But  we  will  now  return  to  our  young  hero.  When 
Benito  had  departed,  he  and  Felipe  placed  their  dis- 
comfited prisoner  upon  his  horse,  binding  him  se- 
curely there ;  then  they  headed  for  the  mountains, 
on  their  way  to  the  Englishman's  plantation. 

The  distance  was  about  the  same  as  the  young 
orderly  had  to  travel  to  reach  Humacao,  but  the 
path  was  rougher,  and  the  care  of  their  captive  de- 
layed them  considerably,  so  night  overtook  them 
long  before  they  reached  their  destination. 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

There  was  a  new  moon,  however,  and  under  its 
pale  light  they  found  their  way  through  the  woods, 
and  a  little  before  midnight  halted  at  the  door 
of  the  house.  It  was  an  easy  task  to  arouse  Mr. 
Swallow,  and  he  soon  came  to  the  main  entrance.' 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  he  questioned,  before  he  threw 
back  the  bolts. 

"  It  is  I !  Bert  Larkin,"  the  lad  responded. 
"  Felipe  Peregrino,  a  native,  is  with  me,  and  we 
have  Don  Jose  Sardinas  as  a  prisoner.  Let  us  in, 
and  I  will  explain  everything." 

The  next  minute  the  door  was  open,  and  the 
Englishman  in  his  pyjamas  appeared. 

"  What's  that  ?  Don  Jose  a  prisoner?  What  do 
you  mean  ? " 

"  We  have  good  reason  for  it,"  Bert  replied, 
jumping  from  his  horse  and  stepping  upon  the 
veranda  beside  his  friend. 

Then  in  low  tones  he  told  the  experiences  he  had 
passed  through  since  he  departed  from  that  hos- 
pitable roof,  and  what  he  had  learned  of  the  Don's 
scheme. 

"Well,  I  declare!"  exclaimed  the  incredulous 
planter.  "  I  can  hardly  believe  your  statements. 
Don  Jose  was  your  father's  trusted  friend,  and  he 
sent  me  a  note  by  your  guide  explaining  that,  while 
the  ranch  was  nominally  in  his  name,  fie  was  only 
holding  it  during  the  war  ;  then  your  father  was  to 
return.  Can  it  be  you  have  made  a  serious  mistake  ? " 

"  I  know  what  I  have  seen  and  heard,  and  felt, 
in  the  last  two  months,"  expostulated  the  boy; 
"and,  besides,  I  have  proofs  of  the  Spaniard's  guilt 
in-  his  own  handwriting,  if  you  will  onlv  look  at 
them." 

"  Certainly  !  Certainly !  I'll  do  that  much.  But 
let  me  call  a  servant  to  take  your  horses,  then  you 
may  all  come  in  here." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  travelers  were  in  the  parlor, 


AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  RAID.  185 

the  old  interpreter  keeping  watch  over  the  Don, 
who  was  pale  but  defiant,  while  the  lad  and  his 
friend  examined  the  papers  the  former  had  in  his 
possession. 

These,  along  with  the  boy's  full  explanations  (con- 
firmed at  certain  points  by  Felipe),  convinced  the 
doubting  ranchman,  and  he  said  : 

fc'  I  must  think  this  matter  over  before  1  advise 
you  in  your  next  move.  But,  meantime,  you  and 
your  comrade  must  have  food  and  rest.  Fortunately, 
I  have  a  strong  room  where  I  can  put  the  Spaniard 
under  the  guard  of  four  men  whom  I  can  trust,  and 
so  relieve  you  from  that  vigil." 

He  hastened  to  carry  out  these  preparations,  and 
an  hour  later  both  Bert  and  Felipe  had  been  fed, 
and  were  sleeping  soundly  in  the  chambers  to  which 
they  had  been  shown. 

The  following  day  neither  the  lad  nor  his  faithful 
ally  were  disturbed  until  the  dinner  hour. 

At  that  meal  Mr.  Swallow  remarked  : 

"  I  find  I  have  a  man  who  can  lead  us  to  the  very 
spot  in  the  mountains  marked  on  your  map  as  the 
headquarters  of  the  bandits,  and  I  have  concluded 
that  our  first  work  should  be  to  release  your  father 
and  Mr.  Barnes. 

"  We  will  start  at  nightfall,  and  close  in  on  the 
rendezvous,  so  as  to  surprise  the  robbers  at  dawn ; 
and  I.  think  we  better  take  the  Don  with  us,  for  if 
we  fail  in  capturing  the  marauders,  it  is  possible  we 
may  be  able  to  exchange  the  Spaniard  for  our  friends. 
Once  show  the  gang  this  letter  you  have,  and  they 
will  make  a  summary  end  of  their  former  leader. 
It  may  not  be  just  the  thing  to  do,  but  there  will  be 
poetic  justice  in  such  a  move." 

As  the  sun  went  down  twenty-five  heavily  armed 
men,  collected  from  the  peasants  on  the  ranch, 
together  with  Felipe,  Bert,  and  the  Englishman, 
started  for  the  mountains. 


186  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Horses  were  used  for  the  first  ten  miles,  and  then 
the  rescuers  proceeded  on  foot.  Scouts  were  thrown 
out  as  they  advanced,  and  at  length  the  squad  had 
closed  in  the  one  entrance  to  the  narrow  gorge  in 
which  the  brigands  made  their  headquarters. 

A  halt  was  no\v  made,  until  a  rosy  light  in  the 
east  told  of  the  breaking  day ;  then,  with  rifles 
ready  for  immediate  use,  the  men  moved  cautiously 
up  tlie  pass  until  the  little  plateau  with  its  four  rude 
huts  was  in  sight. 

Thus  far  not  a  sign  of  the  bandits  had  been  dis- 
covered, and,  believing  their  surprise  was  complete, 
the  raiding  party  rushed  into  the  clearing,  and  sur- 
rounded every  cabin. 

As  there  was  no  longer  any  need  of  silence  they 
now  with  shouts  burst  open  the  door  of  each  build- 
ing, and  then  stared  about  them  in  amazement.  All 
the  huts  were  empty. 

A  minute  search  was  immediately  made  of  the 
premises.  There  was  every  trace  of  recent  occupa- 
tion, but  bandits  and  prisoners  alike  had  utterly 
vanished. 

The  steep  cliffs  on  every  side  furnished  no  possible 
outlet ;  no  one  had  passed  down  the  gorge  since  the 
scouts  first  approached  it.  There  was  then  but  one 
conclusion :  for  reasons  of  their  own  the  old  rendez- 
vous had  been  abandoned  by  the  marauders  some 
hours  before  the  raid  on  them  was  undertaken. 

It  was  clear,  too,  that  the  captured  Don  was  as 
much  mystified  by  this  movement  of  his  former  col- 
leagues as  were  his  captors.  He  admitted  that  he 
had  been  there  only  three  days  before,  and  the  gang 
was  then  occupying  their  usual  quarters.  There 
seemed  no  solution  to  the  mystery  until  Bert  sud- 
denly remarked  : 

"  The  robbers  have  learned  in  someway — perhaps 
through  the  letter  I  sent  father — that  Don  Jose  hac} 
arranged  for  the  soldiers  to  attack  them  as  sooq 


AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  RAID.  187 

as  I  was  brought  up  here,  and  so  have  changed 
their  place  of  concealment.  This  gives  them  the 
winning  card,  for  they  can  now  dictate  terms  either 
Way — to  father's  friends,  or  his  enemies — and  unload 
to  the  highest  bidder." 

"  You  are  right,"  Mr.  Swallow  emphatically  de- 
clared ;  "  and  there  is  but  one  thing  for  us  to  do : 
post  a  notice  on  the  cabins  of  your  escape  and  the 
Don's  capture,  and  request  the  band  to  communicate 
with  you  at  my  ranch.  It  is  possible  you  will  hear 
from  them." 

This  plan  was  adopted.  Bert  wrote  a  note  in 
English — that  his  father  or  Mr.  Barnes  might  be 
called  on  to  translate  it,  and  so  would  receive  tid- 
ings directly  from  him — and  placed  it  on  the  door 
of  the  first  hut  where  any  one  visiting  the  old 
rendezvous  must  see  it.  Then  the  raiding  party 
began  its  return. 

Five  miles  down  the  mountain  where  they  re- 
joined their  horses,  old  Felipe  took  Bert  and  the 
Englishman  aside,  and  proposed  that  he  return  to 
the  pass,  and  watch  for  the  reappearance  of  the 
bandits. 

"  I  will  then  follow  them  to  their  new  quarters," 
he  said,  "  and  immediately  report  to  you." 

The  suggestion  was  a  good  one ;  so  he  was  sup- 
plied with  two  or  three  days'  rations  from  the 
provisions  the  party  had  with  them,  and  then  went 
back  into  the  hills. 

It  was  too  late  when  they  reached  the  plantation 
for  Mr.  Swallow's  next  movement  to  be  undertaken 
that  day ;  but  early  on  the  following  morning  he 
carried  it  out.  It  was  the  sending  of  a  trusty  mes- 
senger to  the  English  consul  at  San  Juan,  acquainting 
him  with  the  situation  of  affairs  at  the  Anvil,  and 
asking  two  questions : 

"  What  shall  be  done  with  Don  Jose  ?  And  what 
can  be  done  for  Captain  Larkin  and  Jack  Barnes  ? " 


188         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

The  man  returned  at  the  close  of  the  second  day 
with  this  brief  reply  : 

"  SAN  JUAN,  July  31st. 
"My  DEAR  SWALLOW, 

"  The  United  States  troops  have  landed  on  the 
island.  Ponce  has  surrendered  without  a  blow,  and 
the  whole  southern  shore  is  flocking  to  the  new- 
comers with  open  arms.  Miles'  advance  is  a  perfect 
ovation. 

"  Let  young  Larkin,  therefore,  go  to  the  nearest 
camp  of  his  countrymen,  and  ask  for  a  force  suffi- 
cient to  protect  his  property  and  liberate  his  father, 
though  they  scour  the  mountains  to  do  it.  His 
request  will  be  granted.  Turn  the  villainous  Don 
over  to  the  American  authorities  when  they  reach 
the  Anvil. 

"  Yours, 

"  RALSTON." 

Felipe  had  not  yet  come  down  from  the  hills,  but 
believing  he  could  leave  the  whole  matter  of  his 
father's  rescue  (should  the  opportunity  for  it  come 
during  his  absence)  in  the  hands  of  the  planter  and 
the  old  interpreter,  Bert  the  next  morning  mounted 
his  horse,  and,  with  a  single  attendant,  started  on 
his  journey  across  the  island  to  the  American  camp. 


UNDER  THE  FLAG.  189 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

UNDER    THE    FLAG. 

THE  route  followed  by  our  hero  in  his  travels  was 
over  the  mountain  to  the  south,  thence  along  the 
foot  of  the  range  to  a  cart-road  running  to  the  south- 
west, and  at  length  emerging  into  the  highway  from 
Humacao  to  Caguas,  near  the  village  of  Guanabo. 

The  first  part  of  the  way  was  rough,  and  com- 
pelled slow  going  ;  but  the  farther  the  lad  advanced 
into  the  island  the  better  the  traveling  became,  and 
at  nightfall  he  reached  Caguas,  on  the  great  mili- 
tary road. 

He  found  the  town  garrisoned  by  a  company  of 
Spanish  soldiers,  left  there  two  days  before  by 
Colonel  Luzares,  while  he  with  the  rest  of  his  com- 
mand had  gone  to  Aibonito,  twenty  five  miles  to 
the  south  and  west. 

The  city  was  in  intense  excitement,  also,  over  the 
rumors  that  had  just  reached  there  of  the  rapid  ad- 
vance of  the  United  States  forces  in  two  divisions — 
one  from  Ponce  through  Juan  Diaz  and  Coarno  to- 
wards Aibonito ;  and  the  other  from  Arroyo  through 
Guyamo  towards  Coyey,  thus  bringing  the  Spanish 
troops  at  Aibonito  between  the  two  bodies  of  the 
enemy,  and  cutting  off  every  possibility  of  their  re- 
treat. The  rumors  were  premature,  but  served  to 
arouse  an  intense  enthusiasm  among  the  native  popu- 
lation, which  even  the  presence  of  the  Spanish  sol- 
diers could  scarcely  hold  in  check. 

Bert  became  acquainted  with  these  facts  as  he 


100        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

waited  supper  in  the  public  room  of  the  one  small 
hotel  that  the  town  afforded,  and  his  own  heart 
quickened  with  the  hope  that,  before  another  night, 
he  might  be  under  the  protection  of  his  country's 
flag — never  so  dear  as  now. 

As  he  stood  looking  out  of  the  tavern  window  at 
the  throngs  on  the  street,  an  officer  accompanied 
by  a  half-dozen  soldiers  came  along.  In  an  instant 
the  watching  lad  recognized  in  the  subaltern  a  man 
whom  he  had  frequently  seen  while  confined  in  the 
fortress  at  Humacao,  and  fearing  that  he  should 
himself  be  recognized  he  turned  quickly  away.  But 
the  movement  was  not  soon  enough.  The  keen  eye 
of  the  lieutenant  fell  upon  the  boy,  and  halting  his 
men,  he  strode  across  to  the  hostelry,  and  entered. 

Realizing  that  his  safety  now  depended  upon  his 
coolness  and  audacity  Bert  faced  the  man,  remark- 
ing pleasantly  in  Spanish  : 

"  Good  evening,  Senor  Lieutenant ;  there  is  a  large 
crowd  on  the  streets  to-night." 

"  Yes,-  senor,"  the  officer  assented,  puzzled  by  the 
ease  and  fluency  with  which  the  traveler  addressed 
him  in  his  native  tongue.  He  must  be  mistaken, 
this  could  not  be  the  young  American  prisoner,  who 
had  surprised  all  by  his  sudden  escape  from  the  fort- 
ress a  few  days  before.,  and  who  spoke  only  English. 
But  he  meant  to  be  sure,  and  so  asked  : 

"  Whence  do  you  come,  senor  ?  " 

"  From  the  north,  Lieutenant,"  the  lad  remarked 
with  the  same  calm  assurance  ;  "  I  was  on  my  way 
to  Ponce,  but  if  rumors  are  true,  I  do  not  know  as 
it  will  be  best  to  attempt  to  go  farther.  What  do 
you  think  ? " 

"  I  think  not,"  the  baffled  officer  responded,  walk- 
ing across  the  room  and  ordering  a  glass  of  wine  as 
an  excuse  for  his  entrance. 

Bert,  secretly  congratulating  himself  on  the  suc- 
cess of  his  ruse,  was  about  to  leave  the  office,  when 


UNDER  THE  FLAG.  191 

a  young  orderly,  covered  with  dust  from  his  rapid 
riding,  dismounted  at  the  door.  A  single  look 
showed  the  lad  that  the  newcomer  was  Benito,  and 
with  a  feeling  of  dismay  at  the  sight  of  one  who 
would  have  no  doubt  as  to  his  identity,  he  suddenly 
paused,  uncertain  what  course  to  pursue. 

His  back  was  towards  the  Spanish  lieutenant, 
who  could  not,  therefore,  detect  the  tell-tale  expres- 
sion that,  in  spite  of  himself,  had  swept  over  our 
hero's  face ;  but  the  orderly  saw  it,  and  understood 
it.  He  also  noticed  another  thing :  that  the  drink- 
ing officer  had  whirled  on  his  heel,  and  was  watch- 
ing keenly  to  see  if  there  was  any  show  of  recogni- 
tion between  himself  and  the  young  traveler. 

Benito,  however,  was  equal  to  the  emergency; 
for  he  strode  by  the  young  American  with  a  care- 
less, indifferent  glance,  and,  saluting  the  subaltern, 
asked : 

"  Where  shall  I  find  Captain  Rialtos,  Lieutenant 
Barriles  ?  I  have  a  message  for  him  from  Colonel 
Luzares." 

"  I  am  reporting  to  him  now,  and  you  may  ac- 
company me,"  the  officer  replied,  quite  satisfied 
that  his  suspicions  respecting  the  young  stranger 
were  groundless. 

The  two  left  the  hotel  together,  but  not  until 
the  orderly  in  passing  Bert  had,  unnoticed  by  his 
companion,  whispered  the  words : 

"  I  will  see  you  soon." 

It  was  perhaps  two  hours  later  when  he,  unan- 
nounced, walked  into  Bert's  room,  and  with  a  little 
laugh,  remarked : 

"  A  close  call,  wasn't  it  ?  But  tell  me  why  you 
are  here?  and  where  is  Uncle  Felipe  ?  " 

Quickly  the  lad  explained  what  had  transpired 
since  the  orderly  last  saw  him,  and  the  reason  for 
his  present  journey.  Then  he  inquired,  anxiously  : 

"  Do  you  think  I  can  reach  the  American  camp  ?  " 


192  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  I  would  try  it,"  his  friend  replied,  thoughtfully. 
"  It  is  safer  than  for  you  to  remain  here,  as  Lieuten- 
ant Barriles  is  suspicious  of  you,  and  asked  me  who 
I  thought  you  were.  Only  your  familiarity  with 
Spanish  saved  you  from  arrest  to-night. 

"  I  thought  as  much,-'  said  Bert,  lightly ;  than  he 
questioned  : 

"  Shall  I  get  away  at  once  ?  " 

"Why  not  go  with  me?"  asked  the  orderly.  "I 
brought  an  order  for  Captain  Kialtos  to  move  his 
company  down  to  Cayey  to-morrow,  and  shall  return 
to  Aibonito  immediately." 

"  My  only  difficulty  is  about  horses — for  I  have  a 
man  with  me.  I  am  afraid  the  animals  we  rode  to- 
day cannot  stand  the  additional  journey  without 
rest,"  responded  Bert. 

"  We  can  arrange  that,"  replied  Ben i  to.  "  Leave 
your  man  and  horses  here,  for  the  night,  with  orders 
to  return  to  the  Anvil  in  the  morning.  Then  I  will 
direct  that  two  fresh  horses  be  got  ready,  one  for 
myself  and  the  other  for  my  attendant.  I'll  have 
them  taken  to  the  south  end  of  the  town  where  you 
can  join  me.  There  will  be  a  good  moon  until  after 
midnight,  and  we  shall  have  no  trouble  in  reaching 
Aibonito  before  it  goes  down.  From  there  you 
can  continue  your  journey  alone." 

Our  hero  accepted  the  plan  as  the  most  feasible 
one  under  the  existing  circumstances,  and  for  twenty- 
five  miles  accompanied  the  young  orderly  down  the 
great  turnpike,  arriving  at  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city  named. 

Here  Benito  left  him,  his  last  advice  being: 

"I  know  you  are  tired,  but  you  had  better  go 
around  the  city  before  it  is  light,  and  take  your 
rest  afterwards." 

Having  no  desire  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Colonel 
Luzares  again,  Bert,  weary  as  he  was,  accepted  this 
suggestion ;  and,  taking  the  route  the  young  orderly 


UNDER  THE  FLAG.  193 

kindly  marked  out  for  him  before  they  parted,  he 
began  the  detour  necessary  to  encircle  the  town. 

There  was  no  real  danger  of  detection  until  he 
reapproached  the  military  road  at  the  west  side  of 
the  city.  Here,  on  a  height  that  commanded  the 
highway,  the  temporary  post  had  been  established, 
while  for  several  miles  towards  Coamo  a  patrol  was 
kept  up.  But,  as  Benito  had  furnished  him  with 
the  password  for  the  night,  he  hoped  under  the 
cover  of  the  darkness  to  run  the  gantlet  of  the 
guards  without  serious  delay. 

This  expectation  was  realized.  He  passed  the 
city,  and  had  gone  a  mile  down  the  turnpike  before 
he  was  even  challenged.  Then  a  mounted  patrol, 
riding  towards  the  city,  hailed  him  : 

"  Who  comes  there  ? " 

"  Friend,"  Bert  promptly  answered ;  but  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  his  pistol,  determined  to  fight  his 
way  down  the  road  if  necessary. 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign," 
was  the  reply  ;  but  there  was  also  an  ominous  click 
of  a  rifle  that  told  how  the  soldier  was  not  to  be 
trifled  with. 

Riding  therefore  close  to  the  trooper  the  lad  said 
in  a  low  tone  : 

"  The  boy  king." 

"  All  right,"  the  sentinel  responded  ;  "  but  how  is 
it  you  are  not  in  uniform  ?  " 

"  I'm  on  a  special  mission,"  explained  the  boy, 
confidentially.  "  If  possible  I'm  going  right  into 
the  enemy's  camp.  How  far  below  here  is  it  2 " 

"  At  Coamo,''  the  soldier  answered  ;  then  growing 
confidential  in  his  turn  he  went  on  : 

"  Our  men  came  in  from  there  yesterday.  But," 
and  now  he  lowered  his  voice,  "  our  colonel  is  going 
to  reconnoiter  down  that  Avay  this  morning,  and 
may  put  a  masked  battery  at  the  bridge  a  mile  this 
side  of  the  town.  Two  of  our  scouts  have  gone 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

down  that  way  to  look  over  the  ground,  and  they 
told  me.     You  will  doubtless  run  in  with  them." 

"  Thanks  !  I'll  be  on  the  lookout  for  them,"  was 
the  truthful  promise,  and  Bert  rode  on. 

Two  miles  below  he  entered  a  wood  thick  enough1 
to  afford  concealment,  and  having  now  been  the 
greater  portion  of  twenty-two  hours  in  the  saddle, 
he  felt  entitled  to  a  rest.  Turning  into  the  brush, 
therefore,  he  selected  a  spot  that  promised  a  secure 
hiding-place  for  both  himself  and  beast,  and  dis- 
mounted. Hitching  the  animal  firmly  to  a  stout 
sapling,  he  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  and  in  a 
minute  was  fast  asleep. 

He  was  aroused  after  a  while  by  the  uneasiness  of 
his  horse,  and  immediately  sprang  to  his  feet.  The 
sun  was  an  hour  or  two  high  ;  the  wind  blew  gently 
through  the  overhanging  tree-tops,  and  the  birds 
flew  back  and  forth,  unfrightened  and  undisturbed. 

But  the  beast  had  its  nose  high  in  the  air,  and 
was  sniffing  loudly.  There  was  something  near  that 
his  quick  ear  or  delicate  sense  detected.  What 
was  it  ? 

He  listened,  and  promptly  decided  that  far  away 
up  the  road  a  squad  of  horsemen  was  coming.  Was 
there  time  for  him  to  reach  the  highway,  and  re- 
sume his  journey  ?  Or  would  it  be  wiser  to  remain 
in  hiding  there  ? 

He  was  about  to  try  the  former  experiment,  when 
he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  no  great  distance  from 
him. 

Springing  to  his  horse,  Bert's  first  act  Avas  to  pull 
off  his  coat  and  button  it  over  the  animal's  head. 
This  strange  and  unsuspected  blindfolding  quieted 
the  beast  instantly,  and  it  stood  there  trembling 
and  quivering  with  fear. 

Then  the  boy  slipped  noiselessly  off  through  the 
woods  towards  the  place  from  which  the  low  mur- 
mur of  talking  still  came. 


UNDER  THE  FLAG.  195 

He  soon  reached  the  turnpike,  and,  peering  through 
the  bushes,  saw  two  soldiers  on  foaming  horses, 
halted  under  the  shade  of  a  huge  palm. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  one  of  the  men  was  say- 
ing ;  "  the  colonel  is  coming,  and  will  be  pleased 
with  the  news  we  bring." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  other  ;  "  and  I'm  glad  we 
reached  here  first.  He  can  no  longer  accuse  us  of 
dilatoriness." 

Before  the  other  made  any  reply,  a  squad  of  men 
rode  up,  and  at  their  head  Bert  recognized  the  well- 
known  form  of  Colonel  Luzares. 

The  waiting  troopers  saluted  him,  and  at  once 
gave  their  report : 

"The  camp  of  the  Americans  is  outside  of  Coamo, 
but  fully  a  mile  below  the  bridge,  Colonel ;  and,  if 
we  work  rapidly,  the  battery  can  be  put  in  position 
there  before  they  suspect  our  presence." 

"  The  guns  are  now  on  their  way,"  answered  the 
commander,  "and  will  be  up  with  us  shortly." 
Then  he  consulted  with  his  scouts  as  to  the  best 
plan  of  putting  the  cannon  into  place. 

The  troopers  had  brought  a  drafting  of  the  locality 
with  them,  which  they  now  submitted  to  their  supe- 
rior officer.  Pointing  out  the  bridge,  and  then  an 
adjacent  height  on  the  rude  map,  they  advised  him 
to  hurry  on  with  his  cavalry  and  hold  the  command- 
ing position  until  the  battery  could  be  brought 
down  there  ;  and  this  the  colonel  decided  to  do  as 
soon  as  he  had  acquainted  the  captain  of  the  artil- 
lery with  the  plan  of  operations. 

The  listening  boy  waited  to  hear  no  more  of  the 
discussion.  A  great  resolve  had  been  born  in  his 
soul.  He  w^ould  reach  his  countrymen  in  time  for 
them  to  occupy  the  bridge  before  the  arrival  of  the 
Spaniards,  if  possible. 

In  three  minutes  he  was  back  by  his  horse  ; 
unhitching  it,  he  patted  the  animal  a  moment  to  re- 


196  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

store  its  confidence  in  him,  and  then  led  it,  still 
blindfolded,  silently  and  swiftly  through  the  forest, 
on  a  parallel  with  the  road. 

This  course  he  continued  for  some  time ;  then  he 
gradually  drew  near  the  highway,  coming  out  upon 
it  at  a  point  some  distance  beyond,  and  quite  out  of 
sight  of  the  place  where  he  had  left  the  enemy. 

Then,  removing  his  coat  from  the  head  of  the 
horse,  he  mounted,  and  dashed  away  to  the  south  at 
his  fastest  speed. 

In  fifteen  minutes  he  thundered  over  the  bridge 
of  which  the  Spaniards  had  spoken,  and,  with 
scarcely  a  glance  at  it,  settled  himself  for  the  last 
mile  of  his  ride.  A  minute  later  he  turned  the 
corner,  where  he  came  abruptly  upon  two  horsemen, 
who  were  apparently  waiting  there  for  his  coming, 
for  instantly  their  rifles  were  at  their  shoulders,  and 
they  cried  out  in  Spanish  the  one  word  : 

"Surrender  !  " 

Bert  did  not  understand  why  the  men  were  in 
canvas  uniforms,  but  the  letters  on  their  broad  hats 
assured  him  that  they  were  United  States  volunteers, 
and  he  therefore  answered  in  delight,  speaking  also 
in  English : 

"  Gladly  !  if  you  will  only  take  me  to  your  com- 
manding officer.  I  have  some  important  news  for 
nim." 

"  Are  3^ou  a  Yankee  ? "  they  questioned  in  some 
surprise. 

"Yes,  sir;  every  inch,  born  and  bred  so!"  he 
exclaimed,  laughingly.  "  Lead  on  ! " 

They,  without  further  ceremony,  turned  their 
horses,  and,  one  on  either  side,  galloped  along  with 
him  for  three-quarters  of  a,  mile,  where  they  came 
to  a  rude  intrenchment,  back  of  which  could  be  seen 
a  collection  of  tents,  while  over  the  whole  there 
floated  on  the  morning  breeze  the  handsomest  flag 
in  the  world—"  Old  Glory." 


UNDER  THE  FLAG.  197 

Bert  could  not  help  it.  Off  came  his  hat,  and, 
when  his  guards  had  reported  to  the  officer  of  the 
day,  he  followed  them  past  the  sentinel  into  the 
encampment  with  a  bared  head. 

He  was  now  under  the  flag  that  meant  justice, 
equality  and  safety  to  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
who  claimed  its  protection. 


198  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

BACK      AT     THE     RANCH. 

THE  scouts  rode  directly  to  the  tent  of  the  com- 
manding officer  with  their  prisoner. 

"  Major  Greene,"  one  of  them  said  to  the  officer 
that  instantly  appeared,  "  this  youngster  says  he 
has  an  important  message  for  you." 

But  Bert  sat  there  on  his  horse  for  a  full  minute, 
staring  at  the  man  before  him. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Greene ! "  he  finally  ejaculated. 
"  Who  expected  to  see  you  in  Porto  Rico,  and  a 
soldier  too ! " 

The  commander,  who  had  been  looking  at  the  boy 
with  a  puzzled  expression  on  his  face,  now  recog- 
nized him,  and  replied : 

"  It  is  Bert  Larkin,  I  declare  !  But,  lad,  how  did 
you  escape  the  wrecked  steamer  ?  And  how  came 
you  in  this  part  of  the  island  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  long  story,  Major,"  the  happy  boy  re- 
sponded, "  and  it  can  wait.  There  is  a  more  impor- 
tant message  for  you  first,"  and  leaning  over  the 
neck  of  his  horse,  he  told  of  Colonel  Luzares'  plan 
which  he  had  overheard  a  few  miles  up  the  road. 

The  officer  received  the  news  as  if  it  was  an  item 
of  small  concern ;  or  at  least  one  over  which  he 
could  take  all  the  time  he  pleased.  For  he  turned 
to  his  scouts  and  talked  with  them  for  some  time 
about  the  bridge,  the  heights  beyond  it,  and  its  im- 
portance as  a  commanding  position  ;  then  he  said  to 
the  men  ; 


BACK  AT  THE  RANCH.  199 

"  Return  to  the  bridge,  and,  keeping  watch  of 
the  enemy's  movement,  report  to  me  their  ar- 
rival." 

To  a  waiting  orderly  he  added  :  "  Send  Captains 
Rice  and  Howell  to  me  immediately." 

"  Have  you  had  any  breakfast,  Bert?"  he  asked 
when  they  were  alone. 

"No,  sir,"  the  lad  admitted.  A  servant  was 
called,  and  a  substantial  meal  soon  placed  before 
the  boy. 

He  had  scarcely  finished  it  when  a  horse  saddled 
and  bridled  was  brought  to  the  tent  door.  Buck- 
ling on  his  sword,  and  taking  his  pistols,  the  officer 
now  remarked,  carelessly : 

"  I  shall  be  back  in  an  hour  or  two,  my  boy. 
Make  yourself  at  home  here  until  my  return." 

"  Oh !  let  me  go  with  you,  Major !  "  Bert  cried 
eagerly.  "  I  want  to  see  the  fight." 

Only  for  a  moment  did  his  friend  hesitate.  Then 
he  said  : 

"  You  may  go,  if  you  wish,  but,  remember,  you 
are  subject  to  my  commands." 

"  Certainly,"  assented  the  lad,  rushing  out  for  his 
horse. 

The  major's  proceedings  had  apparently  been  slow 
and  methodical,  yet  it  was  not  over  twenty  minutes 
after  our  hero  delivered  his  message  before  t\vo 
companies  of  infantry  were  moving  up  the  road  at 
double  quick,  every  man  elated  at  the  prospect  of  a 
brush  with  the  enemy  ;  but  none  were  more  eager 
than  the  lad  who  rode  beside  the  major,  and  his 
wish  was  :  "  I  hope  we  shall  capture  Colonel  Luzares 
and  all  his  men." 

It  was,  however,  a  sadder  scene  than  that  he  was 
to  witness. 

The  skirmish  at  the  bridge  near  Coamo  is  now  a 
matter  of  history — one  of  the  very  few  places  on 
the  island  of  Porto  Rico  where  American  blood  was 


200  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

shed  during  the  Spanish- American  War — and  fortu- 
nately only  a  small  amount. 

We  shall  give,  however,  the  details  of  that  conflict 
only  so  far  as  they  affect  the  fortunes  of  our  hero. 

The  two  forces  reached  the  disputed  point  about 
the  same  moment.  If  there  was  any  advantage  it 
was  in  the  favor  of  the  Spaniards,  but  the  battery 
had  not  yet  been  put  into  position,  and  anxious  to 
take  the  height  before  the  cannons  became  service- 
able, Major  Greene  dashed  over  the  bridge  with  the 
shout : 

"  Forward,  men  !     The  victory  is  ours  !  " 

Side  by  side  with  him  Bert  rode.  The  stream  was 
crossed,  and  the  ascent  of  the  hill  begun  just  as 
Colonel  Luzares  gave  the  order  for  his  troops  to 
fire. 

It  was  the  only  volley  the  Spaniards  poured  into 
the  American  ranks,  but  under  it  two  men — one  an 
officer — were  killed,  and  several  wounded. 

It  made  no  impression,  however,  on  the  advancing 
men.  As  coolly  as  though  on  dress  parade  they 
climbed  the  hill ;  as  regularly  as  though  shooting 
at  a  target  they  poured  in  their  deadly  fire. 

Alarmed  by  the  unwavering  advance  of  their 
opponents,  and  decimated  by  the  showering  bullets, 
the  Spanish  troops  now  broke,  and  fled  helter- 
skelter  up  the  road  or  through  the  neighboring 
woods. 

There  was  a  moment  when  their  commander 
might  have  safelv  followed  them.  But  he  suddenly 
found  himself  face  to  face  with  his  late  prisoner, 
and,  recognizing  him  at  once,  he  delayed  for  a  per- 
sonal revenge. 

"Die,  spy  and  bandit,"  he  hissed,  dropping  his 
sword,  and  drawing  a  pistol  from  his  belt.  The 
next  instant,  he  raised  the  weapon  and  pressed  the 
trigger. 

Utterly  unprepared  for   the  attack,  Bert  would 


BACK  AT  THE  RANCH.  201 

have  been  shot  down  but  for  the  watchful  eye  of 
Major  Greene.  As  the  Spaniard  raised  the  revolver, 
that  officer  leaped  his  horse  forward,  and  struck  the 
uplifted  arm  with  his  sword.  It  turned  the  aim  of 
the  pistol,  and  the  bullet  lodged  in  the  neck  of  the 
animal  the  colonel  was  riding.  Staggering  forward 
the  beast  fell,  pitching  its  rider  to  the  ground.  But 
he  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  exclaiming : 

"  I  shall  never  be  taken  alive,"  he  put  his  own 
weapon  to  his  breast,  and  fired. 

As  he  fell  to  the  ground  from  his  self-inflicted 
wound,  the  men  who  were  still  with  him  surren- 
dered, and  the  short,  sharp  skirmish  was  over,  the 
victor}'-  was  with  the  United  States  troops. 

The  wounded  officer  had  scarcely  touched  the 
earth,  however,  before  Major  Greene  and  Bert,  dis- 
mounting, were  beside  him.  As  they  raised  him 
up  his  eyes  opened,  and  rested  upon  them. 

"  I  am  dying,"  he  said,  faintly,  in  his  native 
tongue. 

Major  Greene  looked  inquiringly  at  the  lad  near 
him,  who  translated  the  solemn  words  into  English. 

"  Tell  him  I  hope  not,"  the  humane  major  replied  ; 
"  and  that  we  will  move  him  to  the  camp  as  speedily 
as  possible  where  he  can  have  medical  aid." 

Bert  repeated  the  message  to  the  Spaniard. 

"  I  am  dying,"  the  colonel  declared  again  ;  "  and 
I'm  glad  of  it.  Better  so  than  disgrace.  Boy,"  he 
went  on,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  lad  who  knelt  by 
his  side,  "  Don  Jose  and  I  played  for  heavy  stakes, 
but  you  have  beaten  us.  Tell  him  I'm  glad  of  it, 
for  now  I  have  not  that  sin  to  answer  for.  Save, 

too,  those  innocent  men  at  the  fort,  if  you  can : 

his  voice  grew  weaker;  his  eyes  closed  for  a  mo- 
ment.    Then  they  opened  wide  again. 

"  Long  live  Spain  !  Long  live  the  king  ! "  he 
ghouted,  and  fell  back  dead. 

Though  Major  Greene  did  not  understand  what 


202  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  m.in  said,  he  realized  that  Bert  and  the  officer 
knew  each  other,  and  that  this  last  conversation  had 
some  reference  to  past  events  which  were  familiar 
to  them,  therefore  he  glanced  questioningly  towards 
the  lad. 

"  I  will  explain  all  to  you  when  we  are  back  at 
your  tent,  Major,"  Bert  remarked  as  he  noticed  that 
officer's  gaze.  "  But  the  poor  man  is  dead  now, 
and  I  shall  try  not  to  judge  him.  too  harshly." 

Some  hours  later,  in  the  privacy  of  Major  Greene's 
tent,  Bert  therefore  related  the  strange  and  thrilling 
experiences  through  which  he  had  passed  since  he 
arrived  at  the  island,  and  with  which  the  dead 
colonel  had  had  so  much  to  do.  Then  showing  the 
letter  which  the  English  consul  at  San  Juan  had 
written  Mr.  Swallow,  he  told  the  errand  on  which 
he  had  come. 

"  I  will  report  the  matter  to  the  general  in  person, 
and  ask  to  be  assigned  to  the  duty  myself,"  Major 
Greene  said,  impulsively ;  and  he  immediately  took 
steps  towards  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise. 

Within  twenty- four  hours  he  and  the  lad  were 
closeted  with  General  Miles,  who  on  hearing  our 
hero's  story  gave  an  order  for  one  of  the  auxiliary 
steamers  to  carry  Major  Greene  and  an  adequate 
force  from  the  Port  of  Ponce  to  Point  de  la  Luna, 
a  few  miles  north  of  Humacao. 

Here  they  were  disembarked,  and  horses  procured 
from  the  friendly  planters  in  that  region  for  the 
journey  across  the  country  to  the  Anvil. 

Only  one  incident  befell  them  on  the  trip  which 
is  of  importance  enough  to  relate. 

When  within  a  short  distance  of  the  ranch  they 
suddenly  came  upon  two  men  who  were  camping 
by  the  roadside. 

As  the  cavalcade  swept  down  upon  the  campers 
they  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  rushing  for  their 
horses,  which  were  tethered  close  at  hand,  endeav- 


BACK  AT  THE  RANCH.  203 

ored  to  escape.  But  only  one  of  them  succeeded  in 
doing  so ;  the  other  was  not  quick  enough,  and  was 
surrounded  and  captured  by  the  head  troopers  before 
he  could  mount  his  animal. 

Bert  arrived  on  the  scene  just  as  the  man  was 
seized,  and  glancing  at  him  and  then  at  his  horse,  he 
cried : 

"  Hold  him !  He  must  be  one  of  the  gang  of 
robbers ;  for  that  is  the  horse  old  Felipe  rode  when 
he  went  back  alone  into  the  mountains." 

The  man  took  his  arrest  coolly.  Looking  first  at 
the  uniformed  men,  he  asked : 

"  Americanos  ? " 

"  Yes,"  his  captors  assented. 

Then  he  pointed  towards  Bert  inquiring: 

"  Young  Seiior  Larkin  ? " 

"  Si,"  Bert  responded  in  Spanish.  Then  he 
eagerly  questioned :  "  Do  you  know  where  my 
father  is  ? " 

"  I  do,"  the  fellow  replied,  boldly.  "  I  know  where 
the  captain,  and  Barnes  and  Felipe  all  are.  That 
is  Felipe's  horse." 

"  I  know  it,"  the  lad  retorted.  "  That  is  why  we 
arrested  you.  "Will  you  show  us  where  father  is?" 

The  man  looked  the  boy  over,  then  he  said : 

"  I  will  take  you  where  he  is,  if  I  may  then  go 
free." 

The  lad  translated  this  offer  to  Major  Greene. 

"  We'll  think  it  over,"  replied  the  officer.  "  It 
will  be  time  enough  to  decide  when  we  reach  the 
ranch,  which  you  say  is  now  near." 

So  the  captured  bandit  was  put  on  his  horse,  and 
the  whole  squad  rode  on  rapidly  towards  their 
destination. 

In  an  hour  they  were  there.  The  mansion  house 
was  found  to  be  in  the  charge  of  the  same  negro 
that  had  waited  on  Don  Jose  the  night  Bert  first 
visited  the  plantation ;  and  he  was  not  only  seized 


204  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

but  questioned  sharply  as  to  his  knowledge  of  his 
master's  affairs. 

It  soon  became  apparent  that  the  fellow  knew 
nothing  of  the  schemer's  plans,  and  had  only  obeyed 
the  Spanish  noble  as  his  employer,  and,  as  he  ber 
lieved,  the  rightful  owner  of  the  estate. 

Announcing,  therefore,  that  he  was  Captain  Lar- 
kin's  son,  and  should  take  charge  of  the  ranch  until 
his  father  could  be  found,  Bert  ordered  entertain- 
ment to  be  provided  for  the  American  officer  and 
his  men. 

He  then,  at  Major  Greene's  suggestion,  sent  for 
the  nearest  gefes  and  made  a  similar  announcement 
to  them  ;  but  he  also  explained  enough  of  Don  Jose's 
rascally  plot  for  them  to  understand  that  Captain 
Larkin  and  Mr.  Barnes  were  alive  and  in  the  hands 
of  the  bandits,  from  whom  the  troops  now  hoped 
to  rescue  them. 

Producing  the  captured  bandit  he  now  asked  if 
any  of  the  chiefs  knew  him. 

Half  of  the  assembled  men  immediately  called 
him  by  name,  and  on  further  questioning  stated  that 
the  fellow  had  once  lived  on  the  plantation,  but  had 
been  discharged  by  Captain  Larkin  for  theft. 

Turning  to  the  robber,  therefore,  Bert  made  this 
promise : 

"  If  you  will  lead  us  to  the  place  where  father 
and  his  friends  are  confined,  I  will  agree  to  tell 
father  of  your  act  and  leave  your  case  in  his  hands. 
He  shall  decide  what  is  to  be  done  with  you." 

"And  if  I  don't?"  the  man  questioned. 

"  You  will  be  turned  over  to  the  American  author- 
ities as  one  of  the  gang  of  bandits  that  has  pillaged 
this  community,  and  suffer  as  such." 

The  fellow  after  a  moment's  thought  said : 

"  I  will  leave  it  to  the  captain." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  the  young  master  of  the 
*  <Jnch,  "  and  as  your  companion  escaped,  and  doubt- 


BACK  AT  THE  RANCH.  205 

less  will  report  our  arrival  here  at  your  rendezvous, 
Ave  will  start  for  the  hills  without  delay." 

A  half  dozen  soldiers  under  a  sergeant  were  left 
in  charge  of  the  house ;  but  the  others,  led  by  Bert 
and  the  major,  mounted  their  horses  and  rode  rapidly 
off  towards  the  mountains. 

The  route  they  took  led  near  the  ravine  where 
the  boy  had  a  week  before  made  his  unsuccessful 
raid  in  company  with  Mr.  Swallow,  and  he  pointed 
out  to  the  officer,  who  was  riding  near  him,  the  way 
into  the  glen,  and  explained  its  security  and  seclu- 
siveness. 

"  I  presume  it  is  in  some  such  spot  as  that,  only 
perhaps  more  solitary,  we  shall  now  find  the  im- 
prisoned men,"  he  said. 

It  was  an  hour  before  sundown  when  they  came 
to  a  stream  coursing  around  the  peak  of  the  Great 
Anvil  itself,  and  their  guide  announced  that  this 
formed  the  road  into  the  bandit  stronghold. 

All  talking  was,  therefore,  forbidden ;  the  caval- 
cade was  formed  into  a  column,  with  four  horsemen 
abreast — as  many  as  could  ride  side  by  side  in  the 
brook — and  as  silently  and  as  rapidly  as  possible 
the  ascent  of  the  stream  began. 


206  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FATHER    AND    SON. 

WHEN  Felipe  proposed  to  Mr.  Swallow  and  Bert 
that  he  should  return  to  the  hills  and  watch  for 
traces  of  the  bandits,  it  was  really  a  desire  on  his 
part  not  only  to  find  the  new  rendezvous  of  the  mis- 
creants, but  to  deliver,  single-handed,  Captain 
Lark  in  and  the  old  sailor  from  their  imprisonment. 
He  reasoned  thus  : 

"  I  released  that  boy  though  a  whole  battalion 
was  guarding  him.  What  then  is  a  squad  of  a  dozen 
men — a  mere  bagatelle  ?  Once  locate  the  camp,  and 
1  shall  find  a  way  to  accomplish  my  purpose." 

He  may  have  been  conceited  in  the  estimation  of 
his  own  powers,  but  his  motive  was  a  laudable  one. 
He  desired  to  effect  the  deliverance  of  his  old  friend 
in  a  way  that  would  give  the  whole  credit  to  him- 
self— and  simply  to  show  his  gratitude  for  past 
favors. 

His  journey  back  to  the  pass  was  made  cautiously, 
for  he  had  a  suspicion  that  the  raiding  party  might 
have  been  watched  and  followed ;  but  as  he  rode 
slowly  along  he  discovered  nothing  to  confirm  this 
suspicion,  and  when,  on  arriving  at  the  clearing,  he 
found  the  note  Bert  had  left  still  untouched,  he  dis- 
missed every  fear.  The  brigands  were  not  around, 
and  probably  were  in  absolute  ignorance  of  this 
visit  to  their  old  headquarters. 

His  first  act,  therefore,  was  to  take  down  the 
missive  so  conspicuously  posted  up,  and  put  it  into 


FATHER  AND  SON.  207 

his  pocket.  Not  that  he  for  a  moment  purposed  to 
keep  it  from  those  for  whom  it  was  intended  ;  it 
was  his  plan  rather,  when  the  whereabouts  of  the 
robbers  was  determined,  to  go  boldly  into  their 
camp  and  deliver  the  letter — representing  himself 
as  the  messenger  of  Mr.  Swallow  and  young  Larkin. 

In  this  way  he  hoped  to  secure  an  interview  with 
Captain  Larkin,  and  obtain  some  idea  of  the  place 
in  which  the  officer  and  his  comrade  in  misfortune 
— Mr.  Barnes — were  confined.  Such  a  knowledge 
of  the  rendezvous  and  its  surroundings  were  indis- 
pensable to  the  carrying  out  of  the  scheme  which 
was  fast  forming  in  his  mind.  One  factor  that 
entered  into  the  ultimate  success  of  the  plan,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  make  full  allowance  for :  whether 
the  bandits,  after  he  once  visited  their  camp  would 
permit  him  to  depart. 

Having  secured  the  note  he  returned  down  the 
pass  until  he  found  a  secluded  nook  where  he  could 
hide,  and  yet  have  a  good  view  of  any  one  who 
entered  the  gorge,  and  there  he  began  what  proved 
to  be  not  only  a  tiresome  but  a  fruitless  vigil. 

Not  a  person  appeared  during  the  whole  day,  and 
as  darkness  came  on  he  went  back  to  the  plateau, 
where  he  first  tethered  his  horse,  and  then  took  up 
his  own  quarters  in  the  largest  of  the  huts — the  one 
which  had  been  the  main  dwelling  of  the  gang. 
Here,  after  a  frugal  supper,  he  crawled  into  the  loft, 
and  fixed  himself  as  comfortably  as  possible  for  a 
night's  rest. 

"  If  the  clearing  is  visited,"  he  reasoned,  "  the 
intruder  will  be  likely  to  come  here,  and  I  shall  hear 
him  ; "  but  the  night  passed  as  the  day  before  it, 
without  any  one  to  disturb  the  quietness  and  peace 
of  the  deserted  rendezvous. 

The  next  morning  as  Felipe  prepared  his  solitary 
breakfast  he  communed  long  and  earnestly  with 
himself. 


208  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  There's  something  about  this  I'm  not  allowing 
for,"  he  muttered,  "  and  let  me  see  if  I  can  reason  it 
out.  The  boy  was  right  when  he  said  it  was  his 
letter  to  his  father  that  led  to  the  change  of  the 
bandits'  camp.  The  captain  is  a  shrewd  one,  and  is 
playing  off  those  rascals,  one  set  against  the  other. 
But  he'd  want  to  make  sure  of  the  boy — surer  than 
he  did  of  himself.  Ho\v  now  has  he  done  it  ? " 

For  sometime  the  old  interpreter  remained  in  deep 
thought.  In  fact  it  was  not  until  he  had  eaten  his 
breakfast,  and  lighted  his  cigarette  that  he  again 
resumed  his  soliloquy.  Then  he  went  on  : 

"  The  captain  certainly  expected  the  Don  to  bring 
the  lad  here ;  why  now  didn't  the  gang  wait  until 
the  Spaniard  and  boy  had  come  before  they  changed 
their  headquarters.  They  could  have  caught  both 
and  taken  them  along  too.  It  must  be  they  were 
afraid  that  Don  Jose's  coming  would  be  so  closely 
followed  up  by  the  colonel  and  his  soldiers  they'd 
have  no  chance  to  escape ;  and  so  it  isn't  likely  they 
would  let  their  old  leader  go  unwatched." 

"  He  says  he  was  here  three  days  ago — or  said  so 
yesterday — that  wras  then  Sunday.  Monday  he  ex- 
pected a  messenger  from  the  colonel,  and  had  his 
letter  all  written  to  him,  asking  for  the  boy.  But 
when  I  called,  requesting  him  to  go  down  to  II  u- 
macao,  it  changed  the  plans  somewhat " — and  he 
chuckled  lowly  at  the  thought — "  but  I  may  count 
it  as  a  sure  thing  the  bandits  knew  he  went  off  with 
me,  and  they  are  watching  for  his  return.  There's 
no  use  for  them  to  come  here  until  he  does — and  not 
even  then  unless  it  is  safe  for  them  to  do  so.  Now 
I'm  on  the  right  track." 

He  rolled  up  another  cigarette,  smiling  com- 
placently all  the  while.  When  it  was  lighted  he 
continued  : 

"  AVhat  I  want  now  is  to  strike  the  trail  of  the 
man  who  reports  at  headquarters  how  things  are 


FATHER  AND  SON.  209 

going  on  down  at  the  ranch.  How  'm  I  going  to  do 
it  ?  It's  likely  he's  down  that  way  now,  and  prob- 
ably looked  for  the  Don's  return  last  night.  He'll 
wait  a  good  bit  of  to-day  for  him,  and  when  the 
Spaniard  don't  come,  he'll  go  up  to  the  rendezvous 
with  the  tidings.  I  must  find  a  way  to  intercept 
him." 

"  It  would  be  easy  enough  if  I  knew  the  direction 
from  which  he  would  come ;  but,  doubtless,  he 
changes  that  each  time  he  makes  a  trip.  He  would 
do  that  as  a  blind  anyway.  Now  isn't  there  some 

Elace  where,  whatever  route  he  took  from  the  ranch, 
e'd  at  length  strike  in  entering  the  hills  ?  I  must 
see." 

He  packed  up  his  traps  ;  loaded  them  on  his  horse ; 
and  started  down  the  pass.  It  was  still  early  morn- 
ing, and  he  felt  there  was  no  great  haste.  He 
wanted  first  of  all  to  find  a  spot  from  which  he 
could  get  a  general  survey  of  the  landscape  clear 
down  to  the  Anvil  mansion. 

None  of  the  crags  about  him  seemed  to  offer  just 
the  point  of  observation  he  desired,  so  he  rode  on, 
working  slowly  to  the  west  and  north — a  direction 
Avhich  at  last  brought  him  out  in  full  view  of  the 
sharp  part  of  the  mountain  peak  which  formed  the 
point  to  The  Anvil,  and  gave  to  the  locality  its 
name. 

There  it  loomed  up  before  him,  five  hundred  feet 
in  the  air,  and  not  over  a  mile  away. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  can  climb  up  there,"  he  said, 
gazing  at  the  mountain  top  ;  "  if  so,  I  can  see^-inost 
of  the  island." 

He  knew  it  would  be  a  hard  climb,  but,  conclud- 
ing to  make  the  trial,  looked  round  for  a  place  to 
conceal  his  horse.  He  was  not  at  a  loss,  however, 
to  find  a  suitable  place  for  the  hiding.  The  huge 
gum  trees  that  grew  at  that  high  level,  and  the 
rank  ferns  of  the  tropics  were  all  about  him.  Chasms 
U 


210  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

in  the  ledges,  and  breaks  among  the  great  boulders, 
abounded.  A  score  of  places  presented  themselves 
at  a  single  glance  adaptable  for  his  purpose. 

It  was  an  opening  in  the  rock,  almost  hid  by  an 
enormous  gum  tree,  and  not  over  fifty  feet  away, 
that  he  finally  selected.  Leading  the  animal  past 
the  tree  trunk  into  the  cavern,  he  fastened  it  securely 
to  a  fragment  of  stone.  Then  he  drew  dead  wood 
across  the  mouth  until  it  was  fully  concealed.  No 
one  would  suspect  the  presence  of  the  horse  there, 
and  the  big  guuiwood  would  enable  him  to  identify 
the  place  from  a  long  distance. 

He  was  now  prepared  for  his  climbing,  and  walked 
quickly  along  the  slope,  looking  for  the  best  place 
to  ascend.  In  a  few  minutes  he  heard  the  rushing 
of  a  stream,  and,  thinking  he  would  find  an  accessible 
path  along  its  banks,  hastened  towards  it. 

Reaching  the  brook  two  hundred  feet  further  on, 
he  suddenly  gave  a  low  exclamation  of  delight.  The 
cause  of  his  utterance  was  the  discovery  of  a  horse's 
track  on  the  bank  of  the  stream.  It  looked  fresh, 
and  as  though  but  a  short  time  before  the  animal 
had  come  up  out  of  the  water — on  its  way  down  the 
mountain. 

Was  not  this  a  trail  that  would  lead  to  the  bandit 
camp  ?  He  believed  so,  and  determined  to  follow 
it  up. 

The  brook  was  not  deep,  and  stepping  noiselessly 
into  it,  he  crossed  over  to  the  other  side  and  searched 
eagerly  there  for  the  place  where  the  beast  had 
entered  the  water.  He  could  not  find  it,  though  he 
looked  for  at  least  fifty  feet  up  and  down  the  bank. 

He  now  went  back  to  the  right  side  of  the  stream, 
and  examined  the  track  more  closely.  It  had  evi^ 
dently  been  made  by  the  animal  as  it  leapt  out  of 
the  water,  while  descending  the  brook.  He  decided, 
therefore,  to  go  back  for  his  own  horse,  and  then, 
ascending  the  rivulet,  keep  a  sharp  eye  out  for  the 


FATHER  AND  SON.  211 

place  of  entrance  on  each  bank.  Where  the  other 
horse  had  come  from,  his  horse  could  go. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  back  at  the  stream,  and 
began  the  ascent,  finding  soon  that  it  did  not  come 
directly  down  from  the  mountain,  but  wound  around 
the  foot  of  the  peak  to  its  west  side ;  and  then  it 
entered  a  deeply- wooded  ravine — which  formed  the 
hollow,  or  curve,  in  that  side  of  the  huge  Anvil. 
There  had  been  as  yet  no  mark  that  indicated  the 
entrance  of  the  bandit's  horse  to  the  brook,  and  the 
searcher  remarked  to  himself  : 

"  I  have  struck  it  now.  This  stream  is  the  road- 
bed that  leads  into  the  new  rendezvous.  I  must  be 
cautious." 

He  rode  out  of  the  water  and  into  the  thick  woods 
to  think  the  matter  over.  Should  he  go  on,  or 
wait  until  the  robber — who  evidently  had  gone 
down  the  mountain — should  return,  and  then  follow 
him  in  ?  Would  not  his  presence  in  the  camp  be 
more  easily  explained  if  he  adopted  the  latter 
course  ?  He  decided  it  would,  and  making  sure  he 
was  entirely  concealed,  he  waited. 

The  forenoon  passed,  and  half  the  afternoon,  but 
he  did  not  stir.  Confident  that  he  was  on  the  right 
track,  time  was  of  no  account.  He  could  be  patient 
until  the  returning  brigand  came. 

But  his  patience  Avas  not  to  be  tried  much  longer. 
!N"ot  far  from  four  o'clock  he  caught  the  swash  of  a 
horse's  hoof — faint,  but  positive.  It  grew  louder, 
and  he  held  his  own  horse's  jaws  to  prevent  it  from 
neighing,  as  a  man,  heavily  armed,  passed,  riding 
straight  up  the  stream.  When  the  sound  of  the 
animal's  steps  had  died  away  in  the  distance,  Felipe 
mounted  his  own  beast,  and  followed  the  fellow. 

For  a  mile  the  brook  wound  among  the  hills,  its 
banks  growing  higher,  and  nearer  together,  until  at 
length  they  were  twenty  feet  high,  and  not  over  ten 
feet  apart,  while  the  sparkling  waters  rushed  and 


212        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

foamed  between  them,  as  though  eager  to  find  a 
broader  channel. 

Stopping  only  long  enough  to  make  sure  that  the 
note  he  carried  was  safe  in  the  bosom  of  his  shirt, 
the  old  native  plunged  into  the  chasm,  and,  though 
the  water  reached  the  belly  of  his  horse,  rode  fear- 
lessly on  until  the  steep  banks  abruptly  ended,  and 
the  ravine  as  suddenly  widened  into  a  broad  and 
beautiful  plateau. 

Near  the  center  of  this  plain  were  two  log  huts, 
side  by  side,  before  which  a  half-dozen  men  were 
standing,  talking  with  the  horseman  who  had  just 
arrived  ;  and  Felipe  had  barely  time  to  draw  a  white 
cloth  from  his  pocket  and  hold  it  out  as  a  flag  of 
truce,  when  his  coming  was  discovered. 

Immediately  the  bandits  flocked  around  him, 
flourishing  their  weapons,  and  crying  in  chorus : 

"  Who  are  you  2  What  do  you  want  ?  Speak 
quick,  or  we'll  cut  you  down  ! "  and  drawn  machetes 
were  whirled  alarmingly  close  to  the  newcomer's 
head. 

"  I  have  a  message  for  Captain  Larkin,"  Felipe 
announced,  coolly.  "  Take  me  to  your  leader." 

His  cool  assumption  and  fearless  attitude  led  the 
horde  to  sheathe  their  weapons,  and  they  escorted 
him  to  the  huts.  Then  a  huge  fellow  of  perhaps 
forty  years  of  age,  whose  belt  bristled  with  weapons, 
and  whose  face  spoke  of  cunning  cruelty,  came  to 
the  door  of  the  larger  building,  asking : 

"  What  is  it,  men  ?  " 

"  A  messenger  for  Captain  Larkin,"  they  an- 
swered, stepping  back  and  allowing  their  chief  to 
face  the  old  interpreter. 

For  a  moment  the  gefe  stared  at  the  old  man, 
then  he  questioned  sharply  : 

"  How  did  you  find  your  way  here  ?  " 

"  By  following  your  courier  up  the  brook,"  Felipe 
answered,  pleasantly. 


"Who  are  you?    What  do  you  want?    Speak  quick  or  we'll 
CUt  you  down  !"-Page  213.  Yankee  Lad's  Pluck. 


FATHER  AND  SON.  213 

"  Who  sent  you  ?  " 

"  Captain  Larkin's  son  ;  here  is  a  letter  from  him," 
and  the  manuscript  was  handed  over. 

The  leader  looked  it  over. 

"  Bah  !  it  is  in  English  !  "  he  remarked  in  evident 
disgust.  Then  to  one  of  his  men  he  said :  "  Bring 
the  prisoners  here." 

The  fellow  addressed  went  to  the  smaller  cabin, 
and  returned  with  the  two  Americans  at  his  heel, 
both  apparently  well  and  hearty.  As  they  caught 
sight  of  the  messenger  they  cried  simultaneously  : 

"  Why,  Felipe,  what  means  it  ?  How  came  you 
here  ?  "  and,  unhindered  by  their  captors,  they  shook 
hands  heartily  with  the  old  native. 

"  That  explains,"  was  his  brief  reply  to  their 
questions,  pointing  towards  the  missive  which  the 
chief  held. 

The  bandit  passed  it  to  Captain  Larkin,  saying : 

"  Bead  it  to  me." 

"  Thank  God  !  "  was  the  captain's  exclamation  as 
he  glanced  at  the  letter  ;  then  he  translated  it  into 
Spanish.  As  the  reader  already  knows,  it  told  of 
Bert's  escape,  of  Don  Jose's  capture,  of  the  lad's 
whereabouts,  and  of  his  desire  to  arrange  with  the 
brigands  for  the  release  of  their  prisoners. 

The  silence  that  for  a  minute  or  two  followed  the 
reading  was  broken  by  Jack  Barnes  saying  in  evi- 
dent pride  : 

"  Captain,  doesn't  that  back  up  what  I  said  about 
the  boy  ?  I  told  you  he'd  prove  too  smart  for  any 
company  of  Spaniards  you  could  scare  up.  If  the 
ocean  wasn't  big  enough  to  kill  him,  how  'd  you 
expect  a  Spanish  Don  and  Colonel  could  do  it?  " 

Then  he  asked  Felipe  for  a  cigarette  as  coolly  as 
if  he  was  the  leader  of  the  gang  instead  of  its  pris- 
oner. 

"  What  does  young  Larkin  propose  ?  "  the  chief 
bandit  now  inquired. 


214  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  To  exchange  the  Don  for  those  fellows,"  Felipe 
replied,  pointing  towards  the  Americans.  "  He 
thought  you'd  give  a  little  extra  to  have  the  traitor 
in  your  hands." 

There  was  an  insinuation  in  the  latter  sentence 
which  caused  the  surrounding  men  to  exclaim  ex- 
citedly : 

"  Wouldn't  we  though,  gefe  ?  Just  turn  him  over 
to  us,"  and  their  hands  dropped  instinctively  down 
upon  the  handles  of  their  machetes. 

"  We  must  think  this  over,  my  men,"  the  leader 
said  at  length.  u  Disarm  the  messenger,  and  let 
him  go  with  the  other  prisoners  for  the  night." 

His  order  was  immediately  obeyed,  and  five  min- 
utes thereafter  Felipe,  despite  his  protest  that  he 
came  under  a  flag  of  truce  and  should  be  allowed 
to  depart,  found  himself  shut  up  in  a  log  hut  with 
the  two  men  he  had  hoped  to  rescue. 

"  This  is  rough  on  you,  old  friend,"  Captain  Lar- 
kin  remarked  when  they  were  alone,  speaking  in 
English  so  that  the  guard,  whom  he  knew  was  con- 
stantly kept  outside,  should  not  understand. 

"  Not  at  all !  "  replied  the  faithful  fellow  with  a 
laugh.  "  I  wanted  a  long  interview  with  you,  and 
can  now  have  it  without  fear  of  interruption ;  "  he 
then  told  of  the  thrilling  events  that  had  transpired 
since  he  first  met  Bert  at  the  fortress. 

"  May  God  bless  you ! "  the  captain  exclaimed 
when  he  had  finished.  "  if  I  ever  get  out  of  this 
you  shall  not  lose  anything  for  your  brave  acts." 

"I  want  nothing,  Captain,  but  the  chance  to  serve 
you.  Long  years  ago  you  came  to  my  help,  and  I 
told  you  then  Felipe  Peregrine  would  not  forget  it. 
This  is  only  the  proof  that  I  meant  what  I  said." 

Again  the  officer  grasped  the  old  interpreter's 
hand  in  a  hearty  shake,  then  the  latter  inquired  : 

"  How  have  the  brigands  used  you  and  Mr. 
Barnes  ? " 


FATHER  AND  SON.  215 

"  Fairly  well  on  the  whole,"  Captain  Larkin  re- 
sponded. "  They  were  quite  strict  with  us  until 
Don  Jose  brought  in  my  son's  letter.  When  he 
had  gone  I  called  in  Juan,  the  chief,  whom  I  once 
employed,  and  read  him  the  part  that  related  to  the 
Spaniard's  scheme  and  treachery.  He  knew  enough 
of  the  plot  to  see — now  that  he  was  told  of  it — how 
he  and  his  men  were  only  the  tools  of  the  man  who 
was  seeking  my  property,  and  that  his  and  their 
lives  would  be  worth  no  more  than  my  own,  when 
once  the  Don  had  accomplished  his  purpose. 

"  Barnes  and  I  knew  of  this  retreat,  having  once 
come  up  in  here  prospecting.  "We  told  the  bandit 
chief  of  it,  and,  during  the  time  Don  Jose  allowed 
me  to  decide  what  I  would  do  to  save  my  boy,  his 
men  Avere  building  these  cabins.  An  hour  after  the 
Spaniard  left  the  other  rendezvous,  promising  to 
bring  Bert  to  me,  we  had  removed  here." 

"  Juan  also  kept  watch  over  the  mansion  house, 
and  knew  when  Don  Jose  rode  away  with  a  Spanish 
orderly  for  Humacao,  but  supposed  he  had  only  gone 
for  the  lad,  and  would  be  back  in  a  day  or  two.  His 
object  was,  of  course,  to  seize  both  the  Don  and  the 
boy  before  the  soldiers  arrived,  and  then  make  the 
best  terms  he  could  for  himself  and  his  followers 
with  me." 

This  escape  of  Bert  and  the  capture  of  the  chief 
plotter  changes  the  whole  aspect  of  the  affair,  and 
I  wonder  a  little  myself  what  Juan's  decision  will 
be.  But  none  of  the  bandits  have  any  real  animos- 
ity against  either  Barnes  or  myself,  and  once  sure 
they  can  save  their  own  necks,  we  shall  have  no 
difficulty  in  arranging  for  our  release." 

"  The  lad  is  safe  any  way,  and  with  the  liability 
of  the  English  consul  stirring  up  the  authorities  in 
San  Juan  against  Colonel  Luzares,  he  is  not  likely 
to  make  us  much  trouble.  Really,  Felipe,  I  am  quite 
sure  our  sojourn  here  in  the  mountains  will  soon,  be 


216  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

a  thing  of  the  past,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  clasp  my 
dear  boy  in  my  arms.  How  I  love  him  !  " 

The  next  morning  the  leader  of  the  band  held  a 
long  talk  with  his  prisoners.  He  freely  admitted 
that  the  easiest  way  out  of  the  whole  affair  for  him- 
self and  followers  seemed  to  be  the  exchange  of 
the  three  men  for  Don  Jose  ;  but  he  did  not  see  just 
how  that  could  be  arranged  and  the  gang  not 
captured. 

"  I  shall  keep  you  all  a  few  days  longer,"  he  fi- 
nally said,  "  until  I  can  investigate  the  situation  for 
myself.  But  you  will  be  well  treated,  and  allowed 
the  freedom  of  the  plateau  during  a  portion  of  each 
day." 

An  hour  later  he,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  men 
who  had  appropriated  Felipe's  horse,  rode  off  down 
the  stream. 

He  was  gone  five  days,  and  when  he  returned  he 
was  not  only  alone,  but  seemed  greatly  troubled 
about  something. 

The  prisoners  were  instantly  ordered  into  their 
hut,  and  the  door  was  securely  barricaded  from  with- 
out. What  then  took  place  the  imprisoned  men 
could  only  judge  by  the  sounds  they  heard,  for  they 
saw  nothing. 

There  was  first  a  prolonged  discussion  near  the 
large  hut ;  then  the  sound  of  horses  being  saddled 
and  bridled  and  fastened  close  at  hand  as  though 
ready  for  immediate  use  ;  then  the  noise  of  the  pre- 
paring and  eating  of  a  meal,  in  which  the  prisoners 
were  either  purposely  or  thoughtlessly  forgotten ; 
then  there  came  the  clear  and  unmistakable  evi- 
dence of  a  hurried  departure. 

"  They  have  deserted  us,"  said  Captain  Larkin. 

"  Yes,  and  left  us  fastened  in,"  growled  Barnes. 

"  "We  can  dig  out,"  Felipe  suggested. 

"  If  we  have  to,"  replied  the  captain.  "  My 
opinion  is  that  friends  are  near." 


FATHER  AND  SON.  217 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  thought  there  came  at  that 
moment  the  sharp  crack  of  rifles  from  down  the 
ravine. 

It  was  followed  in  a  few  minutes  by  the  sound 
of  rushing  horses — a  small  number  at  first — then  a 
larger  body  a  moment  after — then  a  short  conflict 
close  at  hand  with  pistols  and  machetes ;  and  finally 
a  shout  of  victory  in  good  old  English. 

"  They  are  ours,  boys  !  Throw  open  the  huts, 
and  release  the  prisoners !  " 

Then  the  props  were  taken  from  the  door,  and  the 
three  men  rushed  out,  only  to  stop,  and  stare  in 
amazement,  at  what  they  saw  and  heard. 

A  squad  of  American  horsemen  was  in  the  clear- 
ing! The  Stars  and  Stripes  floated  proudly  from 
the  staff  the  color-sergeant  bore !  And,  as  the 
liberated  men  appeared,  three  rousing  cheers  burst 
from  the  lips  of  the  troopers ;  "  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! 
Hurrah !  " 

The  liberators  were  United  States  soldiers ! 

Not  all,  however.  In  the  front  rank  of  the  uni- 
formed men  was  a  lad  in  the  dress  of  a  planter, 
who  immediately  leaped  from  his  horse,  and,  rushing 
forward,  sprung  into  Captain  Larkin's  arms. 

"  My  father  !  "  he  cried.     "  My  dear  father !  " 

The"  captain  hugged  the  youth  to  his  breast., 
murmuring :  "  My  boy  !  My  dear  boy !  " 

Father  and  son  had  met. 


218  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL. 

"  I  SAY,  Captain,  can't  you  let  up  on  the  young- 
ster a  little  I  I  want  to  hug  him  some  myself  !  " 
Mr.  Barnes  exclaimed  the  next  minute. 

"  Of  course  he  can,"  Bert  himself  immediately 
answered  ;  and,  released  from  his  father's  loving 
embrace,  he  now  shook  hands  heartily,  first  with  the 
sailor,  and  then  with  old  Felipe. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  all,  and  we've  lots  to  tell 
each  other,"  he  then  said ;  "  but  1  have  an  old  friend 
here  to  introduce  first.  Jack,  who  is  this?" 

At  the  lad's  words,  Major  Greene  came  forward, 
and  endured  the  old  seaman's  scrutiny  with  a  pleas- 
ant smile  upon  his  face. 

"  Well  now,  if  it  isn't  Lawyer  Greene !  all  dressed 
up  in  regimentals,  too !  I  say,  squire,  I'm  real  glad 
to  see  you !  How  is  your  wife  and  little  daughter? 
And  when  did  you  come  to  the  island  ? "  Mr.  Barnes 
rattled  on  in  rapturous  delight,  grasping  the  officer's 
outstretched  hand. 

Then  Captain  Larkin  and  the  old  interpreter,  in 
turn,  were  introduced  to  the  major,  and,  with  a 
little  explanation  on  the  part  of  Bert,  soon  under- 
stood who  this  old  acquaintance  was. 

"  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  and  your  men  for 
this  deliverance,  Major  Greene,"  Captain  Larkin 
now  said. 

"  It  is  a  very  small  thing  compared  with  the  serv- 
ice your  son  rendered  me  some  months  ago,"  replied 


MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL.  219 

the  commander  with  much  feeling.  ';  I  am  the  one 
to  be  thankful  for  this  opportunity  of  serving  you 
and  him." 

"  But,  sir,"  he  added  a  moment  later,  "  had  we 
not  better  remain  here  for  the  night  ?  It  will  be 
dark  before  we  can  get  out  of  the  gorge,  and  my 
men  have  already  been  some  hours  in  the  saddle." 

"  Certainly,"  Captain  Larkin  responded.  "  I  do 
not  know  how  well  off  the  bandits  were  for  food, 
but  I  presume  we  shall  find  enough  to  furnish  at 
least  a  bite  for  all." 

"  We  brought  rations  with  us,  in  preparation  for 
a  prolonged  siege  of  this  rendezvous  should  it  prove 
necessary,  and  so  shall  get  along  nicely,"  the  officer 
explained.  Then  he  gave  the  order  for  his  men  to 
go  into  camp. 

In  a  short  time  the  plateau  was  sparkling  with 
camp-fires  ;  and  the  appetizing  odor  of  hot  coffee 
and  fried  meats  filled  the  air. 

The  small  hut  was  turned  into  a  guard-house  for 
the  captured  robbers,  and  there  all  but  two  of  the 
infamous  gang  were  soon  imprisoned.  The  excep- 
tions \vere  Juan,  the  chief,  and  his  trusty  lieutenant ; 
they  had  been  killed  in  the  brief  fight  with  the 
troops,  preferring  to  fall  in  battle  rather  than  die  as 
felons. 

The  large  cabin  became  the  headquarters  for  the 
officers  and  their  friends.  A  fair  supply  of  provi- 
sions was  found  in  storage  there,  and,  added  to 
what  the  soldiers  had  brought,  enabled  all  to  feast 
sumptuously. 

Rude  brush  shelters  were  quickly  constructed  for 
the  troops,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  tired  men 
had  eaten,  and  rolled  up  in  their  blankets  for  the 
night. 

But  at  the  big  hut  it  was  quite  different.  Captain 
Larkin,  Mr.  Barnes,  Old  Felipe,  and  Bert,  all  had 
thrilling  stories  to  tell ;  and  Major  Greene  and  his 


^20  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

officers  listened  in  astonishment  to  the  experiences 
which  each  in  turn  related. 

"  Who  \vould  ever  have  thought,  when  you  bade 
me  good-by  in  my  parlor  last  September,  Bert,  that 
you  were  to  encounter  such  perils  on  land  and  sea 
as  you  have  ? "  the  major  remarked,  after  he  had 
heard  all.  "  It  sounds  like  a  wild  romance.  I  don't 
know  but  I  shall  have  to  pinch  myself  to  make 
sure  that  I'm  not  dreaming." 

"Is  any  of  it  more  improbable  than  what  you 
yourself  have  passed  through,  sir  ? "  the  lad  re- 
torted. "  Suppose  you  had  been  told  at  the  same 
time  that  in  less  than  a  year  war  would  exist 
between  the  States  and  Spain,  and  you  would  be 
here  in  this  island  in  command  of  a  battalion  of  the 
American  forces,  would  you  have  believed  it  ? " 

"  I  reckon  not,"  admitted  the  officer,  laughingly, 
lie  knew  the  boy  had  fairly  turned  the  tables  on 
him. 

The  next  morning,  while  breakfast  was  preparing, 
the  major,  Captain  Larkin,  Mr.  Barnes  and  Bert 
went  out  for  a  short  walk.  Their  course  led  them 
across  a  little  plateau,  and  then  up  to  the  head  of 
the  ravine,  where  the  brook  came  dashing  down 
from  the  mountain  top. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight.  From  some  spring,  hidden 
among  the  overhanging  cliffs,  the  clear  water  first 
bubbled  forth  ;  then,  leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  it 
descended  into  a  small  basin  at  the  foot  of  the 
precipice ;  from  here  it  ran  off  down  the  ravine, 
across  the  plateau,  through  the  gorge,  and  then, 
swollen  by  the  inpouring  of  other  streams,  swept 
into  the  great  valley  below — already  quite  a  river. 

"  Up  yonder  towers  the  highest  peak  of  the 
island,"  Captain  Larkin  remarked,  pointing  to  the 
sharp  point  of  The  Anvil.  "  I've  often  thought  I 
should  like  to  ascend  it ;  but  it  cannot  be  done  from 
this  side." 


MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL.  221 

"  We  can  make  a  special  trip  up  here,  just  for 
that,  some  day,  father,"  Bert  suggested.  "  I  should 
like  nothing  better.  But  does  your  ranch  come  up 
as  far  as  this  ? " 

"  Yes,"  the  captain  replied  ;  "  my  deeds  cover  all 
this  end  of  the  peak,  and  also  the  south  side  as  far 
as  the  ridge  from  which  you  caught  your  first  view 
of  the  plantation." 

"  Major  Greene,  what  would  they  think  of  sucli  a 
farm  as  this  in  the  States  ?  "  the  lad  inquired,  with 
sparkling  eyes.  He  was  glad  his  friend  could  know 
of  the  vast  extent  of  the  hacienda. 

"  We  should  have  to  go  into  the  west  to  find  any- 
thing like  it,  my  boy,"  he  responded,  somewhat 
absently,  however.  His  eyes  were  studying  the 
surrounding  ledges,  and  the  general  configuration 
of  the  ravine.  The  next  instant  he  said  : 

"  But  for  its  tropical  verdure,  this  whole  locality 
reminds  me  of  a  mining  region  in  the  west,  where  I 
own  some  property.  Have  you  ever  prospected 
here  for  gold,  Captain  Larkin  ? " 

"  Only  to  a  limited  extent, "  he  answered.  "  Small 
nuggets  have  sometimes  been  found  by  the  natives 
in  this  stream,  below  the  gorge ;  and  Jack  and  I 
came  up  here  one  day  and  looked  about  a  little. 
Neither  one  of  us  is  an  expert  mineralogist,  however, 
and  we  discovered  nothing  that  promised  value." 

"  Yet  it  is  generally  believed  that  gold,  as  well  as 
coal,  and  iron,  and  copper,  is  to  be  found  in  this 
island  in  paying  quantities,"  the  officer  remarked, 
musingly. 

"  I  know  it,"  Captain  Larkin  admitted.  "  The 
mineral  deposits  here,  as  in  Cuba,  have  been  allowed 
to  go  undeveloped  under  the  Spanish  rule.  But, 
•with  the  Yankees  in  charge  here,  it  will  be  different ; 
their  prying  eyes  will  unearth  and  make  profitable 
every  ore  these  mountain  ranges  possess." 

"  Why  should  you  wait  for  some  one  else  to  find 


222         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  treasures  your  own  land  holds  ?  "  asked  Major 
Greene,  significantly.  "  I  know  there  are  too  many 
men  in  the  gorge  now  for  us  to  undertake  a  careful 
prospecting  ;  but,  as  a  friend,  I  would  advise  you  to 
return  here  at  an  early  date  and  examine  the  whole 
ravine  systematically.  Unless  I  am  greatly  mis- 
taken, you  will  be  amply  repaid  for  all  your  ti'ouble." 

"  I  will  certainly  do  so,  and  before  you  leave  the 
ranch,"  the  captain  promised. 

"  What's  that  ? "  Bert  suddenly  asked,  pointing 
towards  a  long,  slim  object  that  was  making  off 
over  the  rocks  a  dozen  yards  away. 

"  It  is  an  armadillo  !  "  cried  Jack  Barnes.  "  Come 
on,  lad  ;  we'll  catch  it!  " 

Over  the  rocks  and  boulders  that  lay  at  the  foot 
of  the  cliffs  they  were  soon  clambering;  and  in  and 
out  among  the  ferns  and  bushes.  The  animal,  how- 
ever, had  some  feet  the  start  of  them,  and  led  them 
a  long  chase. 

When  they  finally  came  'up  with  their  victim,  it, 
as  is  often  the  case  with  the  armadillo  when  pur- 
sued, was  using  its  long,  powerful  claws  to  bury 
itself  between  two  boulders. 

"  We've  got  it!"  cried  the  old  sailor,  as  enthusi- 
astically as  a  boy  ;  and,  catching  hold  of  the  long 
tail  of  the  animal,  he,  with  a  tremendous  pull, 
swung  it  high  in  the  air,  and  then  threw  it  against  a 
rock  ten  feet  away.  The  blow  stunned  the  beast, 
and  with  a  shout : 

"  Your  machete,  lad !  Quick  !  "  Jack  rushed 
down  upon  his  prey. 

"  There  it  is,"  Bert  answered,  tossing  the  weapon 
down  towards  the  man,  who  skilfully  caught  it  and 
transfixed  the  armadillo  between  its  bony  plates.  As 
for  the  lad,  he  was  interested  in  something  else  just 
then. 

He  had  heard  the  conversation  between  Major 
Greene  and  his  father  about  the  minerals  of  the 


MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL.  223 

island  ;  and,  attracted  by  several  lumps,  the  arma- 
dillo had  thrown  out  in  its  digging,  he  was  now 
bending  over  and  examining  them. 

"  Come  on,  and  help  me  carry  this  fellow  to  the 
camp,  Bert !  "  Mr.  Barnes  was  now  calling ;  and, 
slipping  the  pieces  he  had  picked  up  into  his  pocket, 
the  lad  went  to  his  friend's  assistance. 

In  a  few  minutes,  bearing  their  ungainly  load 
between  them,  and  followed  by  the  captain  and  the 
major,  they  reached  the  hut. 

"  JSrow  we'll  have  some  as  fine  steaks  as  you  ever 
ate  for  breakfast,"  the  sailor  said  ;  and,  with  old 
Felipe's  help,  he  soon  had  remo'ved  the  armor-like 
coat  of  the  armadillo,  and  cut  from  its  carcass  the 
long,  delicate  strips  which  are  regarded  by  most 
dwellers  in  the  tropics  as  a  rare  tidbit. 

Some  of  the  officers  were  too  fastidious  to  partake 
of  the  flesh  of  the  strange  animal;  but  Major 
Greene  and  Bert  did  not  hesitate  to  eat  the  crisp 
and  tender  steaks,  and  pronounced  them  superior 
to  the  finest  pork. 

Breakfast  over,  the  camp  was  broken,  and  soon 
the  cavalcade,  with  its  prisoners,  was  traveling 
down  the  mountain  towards  the  mansion  house.  In 
two  hours  they  reached  it,  and  Captain  Larkin  and 
Mr.  Barnes  wero  greeted  by  the  assembled  peasants 
with  every  demonstration  of  joy. 

In  a  stout  building,  near  the  main  dwelling,  the 
bandits  were  placed  with  a  strong  guard  to  watch 
over  them ;  and  almost  immediately  a  half-dozen 
soldiers,  under  command  of  a  sergeant,  and  with 
old  Felipe  as  a  guide,  were  sent  over  the  range  to 
the  Swallow  plantation  to  secure  Don  Jose. 

The  squad  returned  the  next  day  without  the 
plotter  ;  and  Mr.  Swallow,  who  accompanied  the 
men,  told  a  strange  story  of  the  schemer's  fate. 

After  Bert  left  the  Englishman's  ranch  for  his 
trip  across  the  island,  Mrs.  Swallow  became  so 


224  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

nervous  over  the  presence  of  the  arch-conspirator 
in  the  house  that  her  husband  fitted  up  a  stout  hut 
a  half-mile  from  the  mansion,  and  confined  the  Don 
there  under  a  strong  guard.  Night  and  day  two 
heavily  armed  men  watched  over  the  prisoner. 

Notwithstanding  these  precautions,  however,  the 
sentinels  were  surprised  one  night,  and  Don  Jose 
was  carried  away. 

The  overpowered  men  had  been  struck  from  be- 
hind by  blows  that  rendered  them  unconscious,  and 
they  could  therefore  give  no  description  of  their 
assailants.  It  was  consequently  believed  at  first 
that  friends  of  the  imprisoned  man  had  rescued 
him. 

But  before  the  day  was  over  this  view  of  the 
event  was  radically  changed.  For  Don  Jose  was 
found  hanging  from  the  limb  of  a  huge  tree  deep 
in  the  neighboring  forest ;  while  on  his  breast 
was  a  placard  bearing  one  word  in  Spanish : 
"  TRAITOR." 

"When  Mr.  Swallow  had  related  these  facts  in  ex- 
tensive detail,  Captain  Larkin  exclaimed  : 

"  That  was  Juan's — the  bandit  chief's — work,  and 
explains  why  he  was  gone  so  long  from  the  rendez- 
vous. "Where  is  Sanchez,  who  was  with  him,  and 
who  guided  you  to  the  gorge,  Major  ?  Have  him 
brought  here  ;  he  doubtless  can  give  us  some  light 
on  this  terrible  affair." 

The  fellow,  though  not  confined  with  the  other 
members  of  the  robber  gang,  had  been  kept  under 
strict  surveillance,  and  was  soon  found. 

He  confessed  that  Juan  and  he  had  released  Don 
Jose  and  hung  him  to  the  tree. 

"  That  was  our  first  work  after  leaving  the  en- 
campment," he  said.  "  "We  hung  around  Swallow's 
ranch  until  we  had  located  the  place  of  the  Span- 
iard's confinement,  and  then,  watching  for  a  favor- 
able opportunity,  secured  him.  Don  Jose  knew  us, 


MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL.  225 

and  thought  that  we  came  as  his  friends.  Juan, 
however,  soon  dispelled  that  notion,  and  the  noble 
begged  piteously  for  his  life,  promising  anything 
and  everything  if  we  would  only  let  him  go.  •  But 
Juan  was  inexorable,  and,  after  charging  him  with 
his  perfidy,  strung  him  up  on  the  gum  tree.  Then 
we  went  down  to  Humacao  to  settle  scores  with 
Colonel  Luzares,  but  found  he  had  gone  to  the 
southern  part  of  the  island.  We  were  on  our  re- 
turn to  the  rendezvous  when  captured  by  the 
Americans." 

The  man  recited  the  horrible  tale  without  the 
slightest  emotion,  and  did  not  seem  to  realize  that 
he  had  shown  some  of  Don  Jose's  traitorous  spirit 
in  his  own  betrayal  of  his  fellow-robbers. 

"  I  believe  I  should  serve  you  right,  Sanchez," 
Captain  Larkin  now  said  (for  he  had  been  told  that 
the  man  had  agreed  to  leave  his  fate  to  him),  if  I 
should  turn  you  over  to  your  comrades,  and  tell 
them  what  you,  of  your  own  free  will,  offered  to 
do  in  hopes  of  saving  your  own  miserable  neck 
from  the  halter." 

The  fellow  gave  a  ghastly  grin,  but  said  nothing. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  him,  Major  ? "  asked  the 
captain,  turning  to  that  officer,  who  sat  near  him. 

"  Why  not  state  the  facts  at  the  trial,  and  leave 
the  mitigation  of  his  sentence  to  the  discretion  of 
the  court,"  he  suggested  in  low  tones. 

"  I  will,"  returned  the  captain,  greatly  relieved  at 
this  solution  of  the  perplexing  question. 

As  Sanchez  had  kept  well  in  the  background 
when  the  glen  had  been  invaded,  his  fellow-bandits 
knew  nothing  of  the  part  he  had  played  in  that 
raid.  There  was  also  no  likelihood  of  his  informing 
them  of  what  he  had  done,  so  he  was  now  confined 
with  the  rest  of  the  captured  gang. 

In  due  time  all  were  turned  over  to  the  local 
authorities  of  that  district,  and,  in  connection  with 


226  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  four  who  were  at  the  fortress  in  Humacao,  at 
length  received  a  merited  punishment  for  their  evil 
career.  Sanchez,  in  the  opinion  of  the  court,  had 
done  nothing  to  mitigate  his  sentence,  and  so  suf- 
fered with  the  rest.  But  the  two  innocent  messen- 
gers who,  with  Bert,  had  been  condemned  as 
members  of  the  band,  were  speedily  released. 

Before  Major  Greene  could  report  to  his  com- 
majiding  officer  the  results  of  his  expedition,  the 
protocol  between  the  United  States  and  Spain  had 
been  agreed  upon,  and  all  hostilities  in  the  island 
ceased. 

There  was  no  need,  therefore,  for  the  American 
troops  to  return  to  the  vicinity  of  Coamo ;  and 
orders  soon  came  for  the  major  to  occupy  the  fort- 
ress at  Humacao  ;  nor  was  it  very  long  before  he 
became  the  military  governor  of  that  district  under 
General  Henry,  who  was  placed  in  charge  of  the 
southern  half  of  the  island.  *• 

Before  the  orders  came  for  the  officer  to  proceed 
to  Humacao,  however,  the  prospecting  tour  up  the 
gorge  had,  as  Captain  Larkin  promised,  been  made. 
Nor  did  they  undertake  that  trip  without  a  good 
knowledge  of  what  the  result  would  be.  For  no 
sooner  was  the  expedition  suggested,  than  Bert 
produced  the  heavy  lumps  he  had  picked  up  in  the 
armadillo  hole,  and  asked  : 

"  Major  Greene,  what  do  you  call  those  ? " 

"  Nuggets ! "  exclaimed  the  officer  excitedly. 
"  Where  did  you  get  them  ? " 

The  lad  explained ;  and  to  that  spot  the  three 
men — Captain  Larkin,  Major  Greene,  and  Mr. 
Barnes — and  the  boy  went  on  the  following  day. 
Their  search  was  entirety  satisfactor}T,  and  all  were 
convinced  that  the  precious  metal  existed  in  the 
ravine  in  rich  veins. 

This  discovery  led  to  new  plans  for  the  magnifi- 
cent estate.  It  was  Major  Greene  himself  who  made 


MAJOR  GREENE'S  PROPOSAL.       227 

the  proposal.  He  had  come  over  from  Humacao, 
which  had  now  become  his  headquarters,  for  a  brief 
visit  with  his  friends. 

"  Captain  Larkin,"  he  said,  as  they  all  sat  on  the 
broad  veranda  of  the  mansion-house,  "  I  have  a 
proposition  I  wish  to  submit  to  you.  I  make  it  be- 
cause I  believe  it  will,  on  careful  reflection,1  strike 
you  favorably." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  any  proposition  you  have 
to  make,"  responded  Captain  Larkm,  courteously. 

"  "Well,"  the  officer  went  on,  "  I  take  it  that,  with 
Bert  in  the  States  the  greater,  part  of  each  year 

getting  his  education,  you  will  not  care  to  be  tied 
own  here  as  you  have  been  for  the  last  seven  or 
eight  years.  Why  not  then  form  a  stock  company 
among  your  friends  for  the  complete  development 
of  this  splendid  property — its  crops,  its  timbers,  its 
minerals  ?  Of  course  you  will  be  at  its  head,  and 
the  principal  owner;  but  with  other  interested 
stockholders  it  will  be  possible  for  you  to  run  over 
to  the  mainland  as  often  as  you  choose.  Besides 
that,  no  one  man  can  develop  the  estate  as  it  is 
capable  of  development ;  while  under  a  company 
every  branch  of  industry  possible  to  these  vast  acres 
— planting,  mining,  and  manufacturing — may  be 
successfully  carried  on.  What  say  you  '(  " 

"  That  idea  is  not  a  new  one  to  me,"  replied  the 
captain;  "but  where  shall  I  find  my  partners, 
Major? " 

"Why,  here  is  Barnes — the  most  valuable  man 
possible  next  to  yourself.  Then  I  thought  of  Loomis 
of  Montville  ;  he's  a  square  man,  and  an  enterprising 
one  too.  Bert  can  tell  you  all  about  him.  I  hope 
also  that  I  may  be  lucky  enough  to  find  a  wee  corner 
in  the  venture.  We  shall  have  no  trouble  to  find 
others  who  will  join  us.  I  may  say  here  that  as  I'm 
only  in  the  volunteer  service  my  regiment  will  be 
ordered  home  as  soon  as  the  island  is  formally 


228        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

transferred  to  our  government.  Why  not  think  this 
matter  over,  and,  if  it  meets  your  favor,  go  home 
with  me  and  complete  the  arrangements  for  the 
company  there  ? " 

"  I  shall  not  stop  a  moment  to  give  you  my  an- 
swer," responded  Captain  Larkin,  "  I  shall  do  it ; 
and  here  and  now  I  engage  you  as  my  attorney  to 
form  such  a  stock  company  as  you  propose,  and  in 
which  I  want  you  to  have  a  good  share.  Jack,  of 
course,  is  to  be  included,  and  such  other  friends  as 
Ave  may  deem  wisest  on  our  arrival  in  the  States.  I 
shall  immediately  make  arrangements  also  to  accom- 
pany you  home  when  you  go." 

Old  Felipe  and  his  young  nephew  Benito  were 
secured  as  head-gefes  for  the  estate ;  and,  as 
Mr.  Swallow  consented  to  ride  over  occasionally 
and  advise  with  them  in  the  management  of  the 
property,  it  was  expected  all  would  go  well  during 
the  temporary  absence  of  both  Captain  Larkin  and 
Mr.  Barnes.  For  the  old  sailor,  for  reasons  of  his 
own,  was  as  anxious  to  return  to  the  States  as  any 
of  his  comrades. 

So  one  bright  morning  in  October — over  a  year 
since  Bert  left  Montville — all  found  themselves  on 
board  the  transport  Chester  homeward  bound. 


AUNT  MARY'S  SURPRISE.  229 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
AUNT    MARY'S    SURPRISE. 

IT  is  a  clear,  crisp,  moonlight  evening  near  the 
last  of  October.  Miss  Wheeler  is  sitting  before  a 
wood-fire  in  the  little  parlor  of  the  vine-clad  cottage 
at  Montville,  looking  scarcely  a  day  older  than  when 
we  last  looked  in  upon  her  more  than  a  year  ago. 

The  sad  tidings  of  the  sinking  of  the  steamer 
Alhambra  came  to  her,  causing  her  great  anxiety,  it 
is  true ;  but,  like  Captain  Larkin  and  Mr.  Barnes, 
she,  as  one  bit  of  news  after  another  reached  her, 
steadfastly  refused  to  believe  that  Bert  was  dead ; 
and  that  hope  kept  her  from  being  crushed  bv  what, 
to  one  of  less  faith,  would  have  been  an  overwhelm- 
ing blow. 

Then  came  the  cablegram  from  Nassau  telling 
her  that  Bert  was  indeed  alive  ;  followed  by  hislono- 
letter,  giving  in  detail  his  experiences  as  a  castaway^ 
and  his  arrangements  for  joining  his  father  in  Porto 
Rico. 

She  kept  both  messages  in  her  work-basket,  and, 
showing  them  to  every  caller,  complacently  re- 
marked : 

"  Now  that  is  what  faith  does.  I  always  told  you 
that  the  boy  was  alive.  I  believed  it  way  down  in 
my  heart,  and  here  is  the  reward  !  All  things  are 
possible  to  him  that  believeth  !  It  wasn't  that  cork- 
jacket  that  carried  the  lad  to  that  island  ;  it  was 
faith.  It  wasn't  chance  that  sent  those  spongers 
there  to  rescue  him  ;  it  was  faith.  He  is  with  his 


230        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

father  before  no\v,  and  I  am  happy  in  their  hap- 
piness ;  but  even  their  joy  and  mine  springs  from 
faith." 

Two  months  and  more  elapsed  before  she  received 
any  further  tidings ;  but  she  always  had  her  own 
explanation  of  that  long  silence. 

"  Why  Sampson  has  shut  up  the  harbor  of  San 
Juan  so  tight  even  a  letter  can't  slip  through.  Just 
wait  until  our  soldier  boys  have  taken  the  island, 
then  I  shall  hear  from  Bert  again." 

In  August  her  faith  was  again  rewarded.  A  long 
letter  came  from  the  lad,  admitting  there  had  been 
some  unpleasant  experiences  with  some  lawless  fel- 
lows in  the  Anvil  region,  but.  thanks  to  Major 
Greene  and  his  men,  the  disturbance  was  over,  and 
he  and  his  father  and  Mr.  Barnes  were  happy  in 
each  other's  company  and  busy  with  their  plantation 
duties. 

"  I  will  give  you  the  full  details  about  it  all  when 
I  come  home,  auntie,"  he  wrote  ;  "  and  you  will 
enjoy  it  more  because  you  hear  it  from  my  own 
lips." 

Other  letters  came  in  September  and  October,  but 
not  one  said  anything  definite  about  the  lad's  home- 
coming. She  concluded,  therefore,  that  he  would 
remain  with  his  father  until  another  spring.  Noth- 
ing, in  fact,  wyas  farther  from  her  thoughts  than  that 
she  was  to  see  her  nephew  that  fall. 

She  was  all  alone,  too ;  for  Sue  Braddock  had  gone 
out  to  call  on  a  sick  neighbor.  But  though  alone, 
she  was  not  lonely— far  from  it.  Her  thoughts  were 
her  companions,  and  they  were  just  then  exceedingly 
agreeable. 

She  may  not  have  cared  to  have  made  known 
those  thoughts,  but  we  may  form  some  idea  of  them 
from  the  tiny  piece  of  paper  she  held  in  her  hand — 
or  rather  the  writing  that  was  on  the  scrap. 

It  had  been  tucked  in  with  Bert's  last  letter — was 


AUNT  MARY'S  SURPRISE.  231 

but  a  line — yet  it  was  the  source  of  all  her  pleasant 
reflections.     It  read : 

"  Miss  WHEELER, 

"  Jack  is  willing,  and  is  coming  home  when  the 
lad  does — as  he  promised. 

"  JOHN  BARNES." 

Some  one  has  said  :  "  Loved  ones  are  always  near- 
est when  we  are  thinking  of  them."  It  may  not 
always  be  literally  true ;  but  it  was  so  now. 

The  stage  from  Flanders  Depot  came  creaking 
down  the  street,  it  stopped  before  the  house,  and 
wondering  who  had  come,  she  arose,  went  to  the 
window,  and,  raising  the  curtain  looked  out. 

There  was  the  carriage  sure  enough  ;  and  in  the 
light  of  the  full  moon  she  could  distinctly  see  two 
men  and  a  lad  alighting.  Two  of  the  forms  she 
had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing,  and  readily  guessed 
who  the  other  was — though  it  had  been  long  years 
since  she  had  seen  him.  Bert,  his  father,  and  Mr. 
Barnes  had  come. 

The  next  hour  seemed  like  a  dream.  She  never 
could  tell  just  how  she  got  the  door  open  ;  nor  how 
her  guests  came  in  ;  nor  how  she  greeted  them. 
She  only  knew  that  they  were  there  ;  that  two  of 
them  had  certainly  put  their  arms  about  her  and 
kissed  her  ;  and  she  had  a  suspicion  that  the  third 
one  did  the  same.  Whenever  she  looked  at  Mr. 
Barnes,  however,  he  looked  so  innocently  at  her 
she  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  accuse  him  of 
having  followed  the  example  of  her  nephew  and 
brother-in-law,  lest  she  should  wrong  him. 

All  at  once  she  sprang  from  her  cha'ir,  exclaiming 
as  naturally  as  if  Bert  had  just  come  in  from  the 
store  or  mill :  * 

"  Good  land,  Bert  Larkin  !  I  haven't  got  you  a 
bit  of  a  supper  !  "  and  despite  the  declaration  of  all 


232  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  newcomers  that  they  had  taken  supper  at  the 
hotel  over  at  Flanders,  and  did  not  care  for  another, 
she  flew  out  into  the  kitchen  to  set  the  table. 

Miss  Braddock  returned  at  that  moment,  and  with 
her  help  the  meal  was  soon  ready. 

Bert  had  been  perfectly  honest  when  he  declared 
he  did  not  care  for  any  supper  ;  but  when  he  looked 
upon  the  tempting  viands,  prepared  by  his  aunt's 
own  hand,  the  old  familiar  sight  actually  made  him 
hungry,  and  he  was  soon  eating  with  the  relish  of 
bygone  days.  His  father  and  the  old  sailor  were 
not  slow  to  imitate  him,  and  all  were  doing  a  justice 
to  Miss  Wheeler's  cookery  that  delighted  her  heart. 

"  I  tell  you,  ma'am,"  Mr.  Barnes  said  when  he  left 
the  table,  "  I  haven't  eaten  anything  so  good  since 
I  went  from  here  thirteen  months  ago.  I  not  only 
believe  you  are  the  best  nurse,  but  the  best  cook  on 
earth.  Any  man  would  be  lucky  to  call  you  his 
own." 

There  was  altogether  too  much  earnestness  in  his 
tones  for  any  one  to  doubt  his  sincerity,  and  the 
blush  that  came  to  Miss  Wheeler's  cheek  showed 
that  she  realized  the  man  was  speaking  out  of  his 
heart  and  with  no  intention  of  flattery. 

But  both  Captain  Larkin  and  Bert  long  since 
knew  Jack's  real  feelings  for  their  relative ;  and 
were,  therefore,  in  nowise  surprised  when  a  few 
weeks  later  he  announced  that  Miss  Wheeler  had 
consented  to  become  Mrs.  Barnes  before  he  returned 
to  the  island. 

With  that  consent  she  must  have  also  dropped  all 
dread  of  the  sea ;  for  the  arrangements  between 
the  pair  included  her  accompanying  her  husband  to 
the  ranch  at  such  times  as  his  duties  compelled  him 
to  make  that  his  dwelling-place. 

The  day  following  his  arrival  home  Bert  went  up 
street  to  meet  some  of  his  old  friends.  Almost  the 
first  one  he  saw  was  Sam  Thompson.  He  stared  at 


AUNT  MARY'S  SURPRISE.  233 

the  lad  for  a  moment,  and  then  ran  across  the  street, 
asking : 

"  I  say,  Bert,  did  Cousin  Jack  come  home  with 
you  ? " 

"Yes,  and  my  father  also,"  the  newcomer  as- 
serted, scarcely  able  to  repress  a  smile. 

He  was  amused  that  young  Thompson's  first 
thought  and  only  question  centered  upon  his  distant 
relative. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  was  the  next  hurried  question. 

"At  the  cottage." 

"  Isn't  he  coming  to  see  us." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  of  course  he  wanted  to  see 
Aunt  Mary  first,"  said  Bert,  mischievously. 

"  I  don't  see  what  for,"  snapped  Sam.  "  You  and 
your  dad  have  got  money  enough  without  your  try- 
ing to  keep  Cousin  Jack's  from  us." 

This  was  too  much  even  for  Bert's  good-nature. 

"  We  have  no  desire  for  Mr.  Barnes'  property," 
he  retorted,  sarcastically ;  "  and  he  can  do  as  he 
sees  fit  with  it.  But  in  my  opinion  if  you  and  your 
folks  showed  a  little  less  anxiety  about  getting  it, 
it  would,  to  say  the  least,  be  more  creditable  to 
yourselves,  and  improve  your  chances  of  obtaining 
it,"  and  having  delivered  this  homely  truth  he 
walked  on. 

The  next  friend  he  met  was,  as  it  happened,  Bill 
Ecclestone,  who  greeted  him  cordially,  and  asked 
when  he  had  returned.  Then  he  said  enthusiasti- 
cally, 

"  What  a  jolly  set  of  adventures  you  have  had 
since  you  went  away,  Bert!  Your  aunt  has  let  me 
see  some  of  the  letters  you  sent  her.  But  why  can't 
you  get  a  lot  of  us  fellows  together  some  day,  and 
tell  us  all  about  it  ?  We  should  like  to  hear  the 
whole  story  from  your  lips." 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  better  to  write  it  out  and 
publish,  it,"  responded  Bert,  jokingly. 


234  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  Of  course  it  would,"  agreed  Bill  in  earnest ;  and 
then  the  two  lads  parted,  neither  one  realizing  they 
had  given  one  who  overheard  their  conversation  a 
suggestion  that  would  soon  materialize  into  a  real 
fact. 

A  five-minutes'  walk  brought  our  young  hero  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Loomis.  He  found 'Ned  at  home, 
and  soon  the  two  friends  were  busy,  not  so  much 
talking  over  what  Bert  had  passed  through  since 
last  they  met,  as  planning  for  the  future.  For, 
making  a  confidant  of  Ned,  Bert  told  him  of  the 
intention  to  form  a  company  to  develop  the  great 
resources  of  the  island  plantation. 

"  Your  father  will  be  invited  to  become  a  stock- 
holder," he  explained,  "  and,  if  he  accepts,  it  is  my 
father's  idea  that  you  and  I  be  specially  trained  in 
some  Polytechnic  Institute  for  the  management  of 
the  varied  industries  which  will  soon  be  established 
on  the  ranch." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Mr.  Loomis 
accepted  the  invitation  given  him ;  and  in  a  short 
time  Major  Greene  had  organized  "  The  Anvil 
Kanch  &  Mining  Company  of  Porto  Eico,"  in  which 
Captain  Larkin,  John  Barnes,  Mr.  Loomis,  himself, 
and  six  other  gentlemen  of  wealth  and  business  abil- 
ity were  the  members.  And  before  many  months 
under  this  new  arrangement  the  broad  acres,  the 
fertile  valleys,  and  even  the  mountain  sides  of  the 
Great  Anvil  will  be  humming  with  activity. 

With  the  departure  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barnes  for 
the  ranch,  the  vine-clad  cottage  was  closed,  and 
Bert,  when  out  of  school,  divides  his  time  about 
equally  between  what  he  calls  his  "  two  homes  in 
the  States  " — that  of  the  Loomises  in  Montville,  and 
of  Major  Greene  in  Goodport. 

Some  say  he  is  a  little  more  partial  to  the  Greene 
home,  but  "this  Bert  stoutly  denies.  He  says  : 

"Ned   Loomis   is  my  best  boy-friend,  and  Ella 


AUNT  MARY'S  SURPRISE.  235 

Greene  mv  best  girl-friend,  and  I  love  to  be  with 
them  both"." 

Captain  Larkin  remained  in  the  States  until  after 
the  holidays,  and  then  returned  to  the  island.  But 
it  is  his  purpose  to  run  across  to  the  mainland  every 
few  months  to  see  his  boy  ;  while  during  the  long 
summer  vacation  Bert  and  his  friend  Ned  will  De  at 
the  ranch  to  keep  in  touch  with  its  business  life. 

In  this  way  both  the  technical  and  practical  sides 
of  their  life-career  will  be  equally  developed  ;  and 
in  due  time  they  will  doubtless  become  the  chief 
managers  of  the  industries  under  the  Great  Anvil. 


THE  END. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AT     LONG  VIEW. 

LITTLE  Jack  Wilson  had  been  born  in  England, 
but  when  he  was  quite  a  baby  his  parents  had  sailed 
across  the  sea,  taking  him  with  them,  and  settled 
out  on  one  of  the  distant  prairies  of  America.  Of 
course,  Jack  was  too  small  when  he  left  to  remem- 
ber anything  of  England  himself,  but  as  he  grew 
older,  he  liked  to  hear  his  father  and  mother  talk 
about  the  old  country  where  he  and  they  had  been 
born,  and  to  which  they  still  seemed  to  cling  with 
great  affection.  Sometimes,  as  they  looked  out  of 
doors  over  the  burnt-up  prairie  round  their  new 
home,  his  father  would  tell  him  about  the  trim  green 
fields  they  had  left  so  far  behind  them,  and  say  with 
a  sigh,  "  Old  England  was  like  a  garden,  but  this 
place  is  nothing  but  a  wilderness  !  " 

Longview  was  the  name  of  the  lonely  western 
village  where  George  Wilson,  his  wife,  and  Jack 
had  lived  for  eight  years,  and  although  we  should 
not  have  thought  it  a  particularly  nice  place,  they 
were  very  happy  there.  Longview  was  half  way 
between  two  large  mining  towns,  sixty  miles  apart, 
236 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  237 

and  as  there  was  no  railway  in  those  parts,  the  peo- 
ple going  to  and  from  the  different  mines  were 
obliged  to  travel  by  wagons,  and  often  halted  for  a 
night  at  Longview  to  break  the  journey. 

It  was  a  very  hot  and  dusty  village  in  summer,  as 
there  were  no  trees  to  give  pleasant  shade  from  the 
sun,  and  the  staring  rows  of  wooden  houses  that 
formed  the  streets  had  no  gardens  in  front  to  make 
them  look  pretty.  In  winter  it  was  almost  worse, 
for  the  cold  winds  came  sweeping  down  from 
the  distant  mountains  and  rushed  shrieking  across 
the  plains  towards  the  unprotected  village.  They 
whirled  the  snow  into  clouds,  making  big  drifts,  and 
wrhistled  round  the  frame  houses  as  if  threatening  to 
blow  them  right  away. 

Jack  was  used  to  it.  however,  and  in  spite  of  the 
heat  and  cold,  was  a  happy  little  lad.  His  parents 
had  come  to  America,  in  the  first  place,  because 
times  were  so  bad  in  England,  and  secondly,  be- 
cause Mrs.  Wilson's  only  sister  had  emigrated 
many  years  before  them  to  Longview,  and  had  been 
so  anxious  to  have  her  relations  near  her. 

Aunt  Sue,  as  Jack  called  her,  had  married  very 
young,  and  accompanied  her  husband,  Mat  Byrne, 
to  the  west.  He  was  a  miner,  and  when  he  worked 
got  good  wages  ;  but  he  was  an  idle,  thriftless  fel- 
low, who  soon  got  into  disfavor  with  his  emploj'ers, 
and  a  year  or  two  after  the  Wilsons  came  he  took 
to  drink,  and  made  sad  trouble  for  his  wife  and  his 
three  boys.  George  Wilson  had  expostulated  with 
him  often,  and  begged  him  to  be  more  steady,  but 
Mat  was  jealous  of  his  honest  brother-in-law,  who 
worked  so  hard  and  was  fairly  comfortable,  and 
therefore  he  resented  the  kind  words  of  advice,  and 
George  was  obliged  to  leave  him  alone. 

George  Wilson  made  his  living  by  freighting ; 
that  is,  carrying  goods  from  place  to  place  by 
wagons,  as  there  was  no  rail  by  which  to  send  things. 


238  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Sometimes,  when  he  took  extra  long  journeys,  he 
would  have  to  leave  his  wife  and  boy  for  some 
weeks  to  keep  each  other  company. 

"  Take  care  of  your  mother,  Jack,  my  boy,"  he 
would  say,  before  starting.  She  has  no  man  to  look 
after  her  or  do  things  for  her  but  ye  till  I  get 
home,"  and  right  well  did  the  little  fellow  obey 
orders.  He  was  a  most  helpful  boy  for  his  age,  and 
was  devoted  to  his  mother,  who  was  far  from  strong. 
He  got  up  early  every  morning,  and  did  what  are 
called  the  chores  ;  those  are  all  the  small  daily  jobs 
that  have  to  be  done  in  and  around  a  house. 
First,  he  chopped  wood  and  lit  a  fire  in  the  stove  ; 
then  he  carried  water  in  a  bucket  and  filled  the  ket- 
tle, and  while  the  water  was  trying  to  boil  he  laid 
the  breakfast  table  and  ground  the  coffee. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  he  ran  off  to  school, 
and  afterwards  had  many  a  good  romp  with  his 
cousins,  Steve,  Hal,  and  Larry  Byrne,  who  lived 
quite  close  to  his  home.  Jack  was  very  fond  of  his 
Aunt  Sue ;  she  was  so  like  his  gentle  mother.  He 
often  ran  in  to  see  her,  but  he  always  fled  when  he 
heard  his  Uncle  Mat  coming,  whose  loud  rough 
voice  frightened  him. 

Jack  was  very  sorry  for  his  cousins,  as  they  did 
not  seem  to  care  a  bit  for  their  father ;  indeed,  at 
times  they  were  very  much  afraid  of  him,  and  Steve, 
the  eldest,  who  was  a  big  fellow  nearly  sixteen,  told 
Jack  that  if  it  wasn't  for  his  mother,  he  would  run 
away  from  home  and  go  off  to  be  a  cowboy,  instead 
of  working  as  a  miner  with  his  father.  But  he 
knew  what  a  sad  trouble  it  would  be  to  the  poor 
woman  if  he  went  away  from  her,  and  he  was  too 
good  a  son  to  give  her  pain. 

When  his  father  was  away  freighting,  Jack,  even 
while  he  was  at  play,  kept  a  good  lookout  across 
the  prairie  every  day  watching  for  his  return.  He 
could  see  for  miles,  and  when  he  spied  the  white  top 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  239 

of  the  familiar  wagon  appearing  in  the  distance,  he 
would  rush  home  shouting,  "  Mother,  Mother 
Daddy's  coming!  I  see  the  wagon  ever  such  along 
way  off,"  and  then  the  two  would  get  to  work  and 
prepare  a  nice  supper  for  him. 

Jack  could  help  his  father,  too,  when  he  arrived 
home,  for  there  were  four  tired  horses  to  unharness, 
and  water,  and  feed.  Jack  knew  them  all  well ; 
Buck  and  Jerry  in  front  as  leaders,  and  Rufus  and 
Billy  harnessed  to  the  wagon.  George  Wilson  was 
very  proud  of  his  horses,  and  they  certainly  had  a 
good  master,  for  he  always  looked  after  them  first, 
and  saw  them  comfortably  into  their  stable  before 
he  began  his  own  supper. 

Trouble,  however,  was  dawning  over  the  happy 
household.  The  life  in  the  hot  village  had  never 
suited  Mrs.  "Wilson,  and  it  told  on  her  more  as  time 
went  on.  She  looked  white  and  thin,  and  felt  so 
tired  and  weary  if  she  did  any  work,  that  her  hus- 
band got  alarmed,  and  brought  in  a  doctor  to  see 
her.  The  doctor  frightened  him  still  more.  He 
said  the  place  was  slowly  killing  her,  as  the  air  was 
so  close  and  hot. 

"  You  must  take  her  away  at  once,"  he  said, 
emphatically,  "  if  you  want  to  save  her  life.  She 
has  been  here  too  long,  I  fear,  as  it  is.  Go  away  to 
the  mountains  and  try  the  bracing  air  up  there ; 
she  may  come  back  quite  strong  after  a  year  there, 
if  she  avoids  all  unnecessary  fatigue.  Take  my  ad- 
vice, go  as  soon  as  you  can  ;  there's  no  time  to  lose  !  " 

These  words  came  as  an  awful  shock  to  George 
Wilson,  who  had  no  idea  his  wife  was  so  ill,  and 
had  hoped  a  few  bottles  of  tonic  from  the  doctor 
would  restore  her  failing  strength.  But  the  medical 
warning  could  not  be  disregarded,  and  he  could  see 
for  himself  now  how  fast  she  was  wasting  away. 
They  must  go  away  from  Long  view  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. 


240        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

It  was  a  sad  thing  for  the  Wilsons  to  think  of — 
breaking  up  their  home,  but  there  was  no  help  for 
it.  They  talked  matters  well  over,  and  came  at 
last  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  better  not  to 
take  Jack  with  them.  They  would  be  probably 
moving  on  from  place  to  place,  and  in  a  year  he 
would  forget  all  he  had  learnt  at  school.  After  a 
long  consultation  with  Aunt  Sue,  it  was  arranged 
that  Jack  should  stay  at  the  Byrnes'  house,  and 
keep  on  at  his  lessons  ;  his  Uncle  Mat  having  given 
his  consent  after  hearing  the  "Wilsons  would  pay 
well  for  his  keep. 

George  Wilson  and  his  wife  felt  keenly  the  idea 
of  leaving  Jack,  and  it  was  agreed  that  if  they  de- 
cided to  stay  in  the  mountains  altogether,  some  one 
should  be  found  who  would  take  the  boy  to  them. 

It  was  terrible  breaking  the  news  to  poor  little 
Jack  that  his  parents  were  going  away  from  him, 
and  for  a  time  he  was  quite  inconsolable.  His 
father  talked  very  kindly  and  quietly  to  him,  and  at 
last  made  him  see  that  the  arrangement  was  really 
all  for  the  best. 

"  Ye  see,  Jack !  "  he  said,  "  the  doctor  says  your 
mother  is  seriously  ill,  an'  the  only  chance  for  her 
is  to  take  her  off  to  the  mountains." 

"  Can't  I  go  too,  Daddy  ? ''  pleaded  Jack,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes.  "  I'll  do  such  lots  o'  work." 

"  I^o,  my  lad ;  it  won't  do  fur  ye  to  miss  yer 
schoolin',  as  }re'd  be  bound  to  do  if  ye  came  wanderin' 
about  with  us.  It's  only  fur  a  year,  so  ye  must  try 
an'  be  a  brave  boy  an'  stay  with  yer  good  Aunt  Sue 
until  we  come  back  agin  or  send  fur  ye.  We  know 
what's  best  fur  ye,  an',  laddie,  won't  it  be  fine  if 
Mother  gets  strong  and  well  agin  ?  " 

u  Aye,  Dad  !  That  would  be  grand  !  "  said  Jack, 
brightening  up. 

"  Well,  it's  a  sad  partin'  fur  us  all ;  but  there's 
nothin'  else  to  be  done,  an'  ye  must  try  an'  keep  up 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

a  good  heart  fur  yer  mother's  sake,  as  I  doubt  she'll 
fret  sadly  o'er  leavin'  ye." 

Jack  promised  to  be  brave,  but  there  was  a 
troubled  look  on  his  usually  bright  face  as  he  watched 
the  rapid  preparations  going  on  for  the  departure. 
The  things  had  to  be  sold  out  of  the  house,  as  they 
could  not  take  much  with  them.  The  sale  at  first 
excited  Jack,  as  so  many  people  came  to  buy  ;  but 
when  he  saw  their  furniture,  beds,  chairs,  and  tables 
all  being  carried  off  by  strangers,  he  realized  fully 
what  the  breaking  up  of  his  home  meant,  and  it 
made  him  feel  very  sad. 

There  was  a  lot  to  be  done.  Jack  went  with  his 
father  to  buy  a  stock  of  provisions  for  their  long 
journey,  and  then  they  tried  to  make  the  clumsy 
wagon  as  comfortable  as  possible  for  the  sick  mother. 
Aunt  Sue  packed  up,  as  her  sister  was  so  Aveak,  and 
the  trial  of  leaving  Jack  was  proving  almost  too  much 
for  her  slender  stock  of  strength.  All  the  same,  she 
bravely  tried  to  hide  the  pain  the  parting  gave  her, 
and  for  her  boy's  sake  tried  to  be  cheerful  even  to 
the  last. 

Alone  with  Aunt  Sue  she  opened  her  heart,  and 
received  true  sympathy  in  her  trouble  from  that  good 
woman,  who  knew  well  that  the  chief  sorrow  to 
her  sister  was  the  fear  she  might  never  see  her 
little  lad  again. 

"  You  mustn't  get  so  downhearted,  Maggie,"  said 
Mrs.  Byrne,  kindly  ;  "  but  hope  for  the  best.  I  have 
heard  the  air  in  the  mountains  is  just  wonderful  to 
cure  cases  like  yours,  and  perhaps  ye'll  get  quite 
strong  afore  long." 

"  If  it  pleases  God,"  said  her  sister,  gently.  "And 
now,  Sue,  ye'll  promise  me  to  look  well  after  Jack. 
I  know  ye're  fond  o'  him  fur  his  own  sake  as  well  as 
mine  :  but  I'm  feared  if  Mat  gets  one  o'  his  mad  fits 
on,  he  might  treat  him  badly." 

"  Don't  you  fear,  Maggie,"  returned  Mrs.  Byrne, 
16 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

soothingly,  "  I'll  treat  him  as  one  o'  my  boys, 
an'  ye  know  I  manage  to  keep  them  out  o'  their 
father's  way  when  he's  too  quarrelsome.  Besides, 
Mat  knows  asye're  payin'  well  for  Jack,  and  that, 
if  naught  else,  will  keep  him  civil  to  the  lad." 

"  I  hope  so,"  murmured  the  mother,  sadly,  "  an' 
if  all  goes  well,  we'll  have  our  boy  with  us  again  in 
a  year." 

"Aye,  a  yea-r'll  go  quick  enough,  never  fear!" 
concluded  her  sister,  cheerfully,  "  an'  Jack'll  get  on 
iinely  at  his  schoolin'  in  that  time." 

The  night  before  they  started  came,  and  Jack, 
who  had  gone  early  to  bed,  lay  sobbing  quietly  to 
himself,  quite  unable  to  go  to  sleep.  Before  long 
his  mother  came  softly  into  the  room  and  stood  be- 
side him.  She  noticed  the  flushed,  tear-stained  face 
on  the  pillow,  and  exclaimed  in  a  grieved  voice, 
"  Oh,  Jack,  darling !  Don't  take  on  so !  It'll 
break  my  heart  if  I  think  o'  ye  frettin'  all  the  time." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Mother  !  "  cried  Jack.  "  "What 
shall  I  do  without  Dad  an'  ye  ?  " 

"  Ye  must  think  o'  the  meeting  ahead,  dearie. 
P'raps  if  Daddy  does  well  in  this  new  part  of  the 
country,  an'  I  can  get  strong  again,  we  may  make 
our  home  up  near  the  grand  mountains  as  ye've 
never  seen.  It's  so  different  from  this  hot  prairie, 
fur  there  are  big  trees  to  shade  ye  from  the  sun,  an' 
little  brooks,  called  creeks,  running  down  the  sides 
of  the  hills." 

"  Aye,  I'd  like  to  go  an'  live  up  thar,"  cried  Jack. 
"  I  hope  you'll  send  fur  me  soon,  an'  I'll  try  an'  be 
good.  I  do  love  Aunt  Sue,  but  I'm  scared  o'  Uncle 
Mat  at  times." 

"  Never  fear,  Jack,"  said  his  mother,  putting  her 
arms  round  him,  "  Aunt  Sue'll  see  as  ye  come  to 
no  harm.  But,  oh  !  dearie,  how  I  wish  I  could  take 
ye  with  me,"  and  the  poor  woman  broke  down  and 
mingled  her  tears  with  Jack's. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  £43 

But  the  boy  suddenly  remembered  his  promise  to 
his  father,  a*id,  knowing  how  bad  the  excitement 
was  for  his  mother,  he  made  a  great  effort  to  stop 
crying,  and,  rubbing  his  tears  away,  he  said : 
"  Mother !  this  won't  do  ;  I  promised  Dad  I'd  be 
brave ! " 

"  You're  right,  Jack.  We  mustn't  give  way 
again.  I  ought  to  have  kept  up  better.  I  must  be 
goin'  now,  dearie,  an'  before  I  say  good  night,  will 
ye  promise  me  not  to  forget  to  say  yer  prayers 
every  day,  an'  ask  God  to  take  care  of  us  all  till  we 
meet  again  ? " 

"  I  promise,"  said  Jack,  gravely. 

"  An'  ye'Jl  sing  the  hymns  I've  taught  ye,  some- 
times, won't  ye,  laddie  ?  "  asked  his  mother,  softly. 

"  I  won't  forget,"  returned  Jack,  as  he  kissed  her 
wet  cheek,  and  then  she  went  away  with  a  feeling 
of  comfort  in  her  heavy  heart. 

"  A  year  isn't  so  very  long,"  murmured  the  boy 
to  himself,  and  before  long  fell  asleep. 

Next  morning  his  parents  started,  and  Jack,  after 
the  terrible  good-bys  had  been  said,  stood  watch- 
ing the  retreating  wagon  until  it  became  like  a 
speck  in  the  distance.  At  last  it  vanished  alto- 

f  ether,  and  then  the  boy's  loss  seemed  to  overwhelm 
im.     In  a  frenzy  of  grief  he  rushed  off  to  the  wood- 
shed, and  wept  as  if  his  heart  would  break. 

But  Aunt  Sue  guessed  the  tumult  of  sorrow  that 
was  going  on  in  the  young  heart,  and  she  soon 
came  to  find  him  and  offer  comfort.  She  was  so 
like  his  clear  mother  with  her  sweet  voice  and  gentle 
manner,  that  she  soothed  him  in  his  trouble ;  and 
when  she  proposed  he  should  help  her  to  get  the 
house  brushed  out  and  tidied  up,  he  gladly  threw 
himself  into  the  work. 

He  was  helping  his  aunt  to  lay  the  things  on  the 
table  when  his  uncle  came  in.  He  had  not  seen  the 
boy  before,  and  even  he  felt  a  bit  sorry  for  the  poor 


244  A  YANKEE  LAITS  PLUCK. 

lad,  so  lie  said  not  ungraciously.  **  That's  right,  Sue, 
make  him  usefuL  There's  notbin'  so  good  far  sick 
hearts  as  *" 


Poor  Jack  flushed  at  this  speech,  as  it  touched  him 
on  a  sore  point  ;  bat  he  saw  his  uncle  did  not  intend 
to  Lori  Lis  feelings  by  the  words,  and  he  tried  to 
shallow  tLe  lamp  that  would  rise  in  his  throat. 
TLe  i  tree  boys  came  in  for  supper,  and  Hal  and 
Larry  looked  curiously  to  see  how  Jack  was  taking 
his  trouble;  but  be  was  determined  they  should  see 
no  sign  of  tears  from  him.  and  they  did  not  suspect 
that  the  little  heart  was  nearly  bursting. 

Sfoeve  was  a  most  good-natured  lad,  rough  to  look 
at,  but  with  a  large  slice  of  his  mothers  kind  heart, 
and  he  now  looked  quietly  after  Jack,  seeing  that 
he  had  a  good  supper.  He  was  very  fond  of  his 
small  cousin,  who  in  return  was  devoted  to  him, 
and  the  big  boy  felt  sorry  when  he  noticed  the 
effort  Jack  was  "making  to  keep  up  a  brave  face 
before  Hal  and  Larry. 

Very  soon  Aunt  Sue  suggested  he  should  go  to 
bed,  which  be  was  glad  to  do,  and  once  there,  he 
was  so  tired  out  with  his  grief  he  fell  fast  asleep. 


LEFT  OX  THE  PRAIRIE.  -_:. 


CHAPTER  IL 

JACK    IX    TROUBLE. 

OVER  a  year  had  passed  away  since  Jack's  parents 
had  left  Long-view  for  the  mountains,  and  the  boy 
was  just  nine  and  a  half ;  bat  he  was  no  longer  the 
same  happy  little  fellow  as  when  we  first  knew 
him.  Great  changes  for  the  worse  had  taken  place, 
and  misfortunes  came  thick  and  fast  upon  him. 

He  lost  his  good  Aunt  Sue,  for  she  died,  ten 
months  after  his  parents'  departure,  of  heart  HJafms^ 
How  poor  Jack  missed  her !  His  uncle  very  soon, 
afterwards  married  again,  and  his  new  wife  was  & 
loud-voiced,  harsh  woman,  who  treated  Jack  most 
unkindly. 

Steve,  too,  his  great  friend,  had  gone  away,  as 
he  had  long  threatened,  to  be  a  cowboy,  for  he 
found  the  life  at  home  unbearable  without  his 
mother.  Hal  and  Larry,  who  had  not  improved  as 
they  grew  older,  took  good  care  to  keep  away  from, 
the  house,  except  for  meals ;  and  thus  Jack,"  as  the 
youngest,  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  everything.  He 
no  longer  went  to  school,  for  his  uncle's  wife  wanted 
him  to  wash  floors,  carry  water,  and  go  endless 
errands  for  her.  Every  morning  and  evening  he 
had  to  look  for  a  Roame,"  the  cow,  who  was  given 
to  wandering  off  on  the  prairie  for  long  distances, 
searching  for  better  pasture.  When  he  nad  driven 
her  home  he  had  to  milk  her,  and  if  he  chanced  to 
be  late  getting  her  in,  he  was  severely  scolded,  and 
oftentimes  deprived  of  his  supper. 


246  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

It  was  a  hard  life  for  the  little  lad,  and  many  a 
night  he  sobbed  himself  to  sleep  as  he  thought  sadly 
of  the  happy  days  before  his  parents  left  him. 

There  was  another  thought  troubling  him,  and 
that  was,  Why  hadn't  his  people  sent  jor  him,  as 
they  promised  f  Was  it  possible  that  they  had  for- 
gotten him,  or  meant  to  leave  him  for  years  with 
Uncle  Mat  ? 

It  was  dreadful  to  think  about,  but  there  was  no 
getting  over  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  Jack  knew 
right  well  that  it  was  long  past  the  time  they  had 
said  he  should  be  away  from  them.  Only  one  year  ! 
He  remembered  it  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  but 
not  even  a  message  had  come  for  him.  He  could 
not  understand  it,  and  his  heart  felt  sad  and  sore  as 
he  often  crept  away  to  escape  his  uncle's  drunken 
wrath  or  the  wife's  cruel  blows. 

One  evening  he  could  not  find  "  Roanie "  for 
nearly  two  hours,  and  when  he  got  home,  tired  and 
hungry,  he  found  Mrs.  Byrne  in  a  bad  temper.  She 
gave  him  a  little  dry  bread  for  supper,  and  anxious 
to  get  away  from  her  tongue,  Jack:  stole  off  across 
the  prairie  for  some  way,  where,  lying  on  the  short, 
burnt-up  grass,  he  gave  vent  to  his  misery,  and, 
burying  his  head  in  his  hands,  had  a  good  cry. 

Suddenly  he  heard  the  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  ap- 
proaching him,  and  a  great  jingling  of  spurs  as 
some  one  dashed  up  close  to  him  and  stopped  ab- 
ruptly. Jack  looked  up,  and  was  surprised  to  see 
his  cousin  Steve,  looking  very  smart  and  happy. 

"  Hello,  young  'un ! "  he  cried,  jumping  off  his 
horse.  "  I  thought  it  was  you,  so  I  turned  off  the 
prairie  road  to  see.  What's  the  trouble?  You'll 
drown  every  one  in  Longview  if  you  cry  so  hard." 

Jack  sat  up  and  wiped  his  streaming  eyes  with 
his  sleeve.  "  Oh,  Steve ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I'm  so 
unhapp3T.  I'm  glad  you've  come,  for  they're  so  un- 
kind to  me,  and  I'm  beginning  to  doubt  as  Father 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  247 

and  Mother   have  forgot  me.     They've  never  sent 
for  me." 

"Don't  fret.  Jack,"  said  Steve;  "they  haven't 
forgot  you,  never  fear.  D'you  know,"  he  went  on 
slowly,  "  I've  found  out  as  they  sent  for  you  long 
ago,  an'  he'll  not  let  you  go ! " — Steve  nodded  to- 
wards his  home. 

"  He  !  "  repeated  Jack,  in  astonishment,  "  Uncle 
]\Iat !  Why,  he  hates  me,  Steve,  an'  I  guess  he'd  be 
only  too  glad  to  get  rid  o'  me." 

"  Not  he,"  returned  Steve.  "  You're  better  than 
a  servant  to  that  woman,  for  she'd  never  get  any 
one  to  work  as  hard  as  you,  an'  she  ain't  a-goin'  to 
let  you  leave.  I  heard  a  tale  from  Long  Jim  Tay- 
lor as  worked  in  the  mine  with  Father,  an'  it's  that 
as  brought  me  home  now.  Father  was  drunk  one 
day,  an'  let  out  about  a  mean  trick  as  he  played  on 
your  folks,  an'  you,  too,  for  the  matter  o'  that ;  an' 
tho'  he  denied  it  afterwards,  I'm  sure  it's  true,  an' 
I'll  talk  my  mind  to  him  afore  I'm  done." 

Steve  looked  so  furious,  Jack  felt  almost  fright- 
ened as  he  asked,  timidly,  "  What  was  it,  Steve  ? 
Tell  me  what  he  has  done." 

"  Well,  then,  kid,  listen  ! "  said  the  cowboy.  "  He 
never  wrote  to  say  Mother  was  dead,  but  gave  your 
folks  to  understand  as  it  was  you  as  was  buried  ; 
said  as  how  you'd  had  a  bad  fall  an'  died  terrible 
sudden,  an'  tlaere  was  no  time  to  get  'em  over." 

Jack's  eyes  had  grown  rounder  and  larger  with 
horrified  surprise  as  he  listened  to  Steve's  story. 

"  How  wicked  of  .him !  "  he  cried.  "  But,  Steve, 
I  wonder  he  wasn't  afraid  o'  their  hearin'  about  it." 

"Aye !  and  so  do  I,"  answered  his  cousin.  " I  be- 
lieve, however,  he  has  been  meanin'  to  move  to  some 
other  part  o'  the  country  an'  take  you.  Your  folks 
are  settled  a  long  way  off,  an'  thinkin'  as  you're 
dead,  they'll  probably  never  come  back  here  again, 
so  he'd  be  pretty  safe." 


24:8  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  "What  shall  I  do,  Steve?"  asked  Jack,  piteously. 
"  I'll  ask  Uncle  Mat  about  it  this  very  night." 

"  Don't  make  him  angry,"  returned  the  cowboy, 
kindly  ;  "  but  tell  him  you  have  heard  what  he's 
done,  an'  you  are  bound  to  go  to  your  folks  some- 
how. I'll  tell  him  what  I  think  when  I  meet  him 
in  the  street.  I  ain't  a-goin'  near  that  house  with 
that  woman  there,  so  if  you  want  to  see  me,  come 
here  to  morrow  evening." 

"  I  will,  Steve.  Good  night,"  and  Jack  darted 
away. 

Jack  felt  very  brave  and  determined  when  he  left 
his  cousin,  but  his  courage  failed  a  little  as  he  ap- 
proached the  house.  The  door  was  open,  and  as  he 
drew  near  he  heard  his  uncle  and  his  wife  talking 
loudly,  and  caught  his  own  name. 

"  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  to  let  Jack  go  back  to 
them,"  he  heard  his  uncle  say,  "  in  spite  o'  what 
Jim  Taylor  wrote  sayin'  he'd  told  Steve,  an'  the  lad 
was  so  angry  he  was  comin'  over  to  make  things 
right  for  Jack.  The  boy's  worth  fifty  cents  a  day 
to  us,  an  '11  make  more  afore  long ;  so  the  sooner 
we  clear  out  o'  here  the  better,  an'  make  for  a  part 
o'  the  country  where  we  ain't  known.  I  guess  we 
needn't  let  Steve  into  the  secret  o'  our  whereabouts, 
if  we  can  get  off  afore  he  comes." 

Jack's  pulses  were  beating  fast  as  he  listened  to 
this  speech.  He  shook  with  indignation,  and  at 
last,  unable  to  stand  it  any  longer,  he  rushed  into 
the  kitchen,  exclaiming,  "  Uncle  Mat,  I  heard  what 
you  were  sayin',  an'  I  must  go  to  my  folks.  I 
thought  as  they'd  forgot  me,  an'  now  I  know  they 
haven't,  but  you've  told  'em  a  lie." 

A  look  almost  of  fear  crossed  the  man's  face  at 
first  when  Jack  burst  in,  but  it  was  quickly  replaced 
by  a  hard  and  cruel  smile. 

"  Listenin' !  were  you  ? "  he  said  angrily.  "  Well, 
listeners  hear  no  good  o'  theinsel's,  an'  it's  a  mighty 


LEFT  ON  THE  PEAIRIE.  249 

bad  habit  to  give  way  to.  Perhaps  a  touch  o'  the 
whip  will  make  you  forget  what  wasn't  meant  for 
you  to  hear." 

"  Oh !  don't  beat  me,  please,  Uncle  Mat,"  cried 
poor  Jack. 

But  there  was  no  mercy  to  be  had  this  time,  and 
when  his  punishment  was  over,  Jack,  quite  ex- 
hausted, made  his  way  to  his  miserable  bed,  which 
was  in  a  shed  adjoining  the  house.  Through  the 
thin  wooden  walls  he  could  hear  the  two  Byrnes 
talking  and  planning  to  leave  Longview  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  he  felt  sick  with  fright  as  he  heard 
them  arrange  to  take  him  too. 

"  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  "  murmured  the  boy  sadly, 
"  what  will  become  o'  me  ?  If  Steve  don't  save  me, 
I  don't  know  what  they'll  do  to  me.  But  I'm  glad 
I  didn't  say  I'd  seen  him." 

In  spite  of  his  aching  bones,  Steve's  assurance 
that  his  parents  had  not  forgotten  him,  as  he  feared, 
was  a  great  comfort  to  the  lonely  little  lad,  and 
thinking  hopefully  of  his  interview  with  Steve  the 
next  day,  he  fell  asleep  and  forgot  his  troubles. 


250  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  III. 
JACK'S  KESOLTJTION. 

JACK  could  hardly  get  up  the  next  morning,  he 
was  so  stiff  and  bruised  from  the  beating  his  uncle 
had  given  him,  but  he  was  not  the  kind  of  boy  to 
moan  and  groan  in  bed.  He  dragged  himself  up 
and  dressed,  and  after  washing  and  dipping  his  head 
into  cool  water  in  the  back  yard  he  felt  better,  and 
soon  got  to  work,  lighting  the  fire  and  getting  the 
things  ready  for  breakfast.  He  rather  dreaded 
meeting  his  Uncle  Mat,  but  although  the  man  looked 
surly  enough  he  did  not  allude  to  the  occurrence  of 
the  previous  evening,  and  after  breakfast,  to  Jack's 
relief,  he  left  the  house.  The  day  seemed  longer 
than  usual,  but  Jack  finished  his  work  at  last  and 
hastened  away  to  the  place  where  he  and  Steve  had 
arranged  to  meet. 

His  cousin  was  already  waiting  there,  lying  on 
the  ground,  lazily  watching  his  horse  quietly 
grazing  the  herbage  near.  He  hailed  Jack  heart- 
ily. 

"  "Well !  how  did  you  get  on  last  night  ? " 

"  Very  badly,  Steve,"  returned  the  boy,  and  re- 
lated how  he  had  been  treated.  Great  was  Steve's 
indignation  when  he  heard  what  had  taken  place, 
and  looked  at  Jack's  bruised  back. 

"  Poor  little  lad !  "  he  said  pityingly.  "  He  has 
been  hard  on  you,  I  can  see.  He  licked  me  once 
in  a  rage,  an' "I  wouldn't  stay  a  day  longer  in  his 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAtRIE.  251 

house,  for  I  hadn't  done  wrong.  I  saw  him  to-day 
an'  we  had  a  terrible  row  over  you.  I  gave  him  a 
piece  o'  my  mind  about  the  way  he  was  keepin'  you 
from  your  folks  under  false  pretenses." 

"  Steve  !  "  cried  Jack  suddenly,  a  ray  of  joy  cross- 
ing his  face,  "  I've  got  a  plan  in  my  head.  You 
ran  away  from  home,  an'  why  shouldn't  I?  " 

"  Aye !  but  I  was  a  big  fellow  over  sixteen,  an' 
you're  a  little  'un,  not  much  more  than  a  baby  yet," 
returned  Steve. 

"  But  I  shouldn't  be  afraid  to  try,"  declared  Jack 
stoutly.  "  I  might  get  lifts  from  folks  goin'  along 
the  road." 

"  You're  right  there,"  exclaimed  Steve.,  "  It  isn't 
such  a  bad  idea  after  all.  You're  a  plucky  boy,  for 
I  never  thought  as  you  had  the  grit  to  make  a  bolt 
on  it.  If  you're  sure  you  aren't  frightened  to  go  so 
far  alone,  I  do  believe  as  I  might  be  able  to  help 
you  on  your  way  a  bit." 

*'  Could  you,  Steve  ? "  cried  Jack.  "  Oh  !  do  tell 
me  how." 

"  Well !  There's  a  wagon  here  now  belongin'  to 
some  miners  who  are  on  their  Avay  to  the  *  Rockies ' 
to  prospect.  I  know  one  o'  them,  an'  it  would  be  a 
grand  scheme  if  he  would  let  you  go  along  with  him. 
Shall  I  ask  him  ?  " 

"  Please  do,"  said  Jack.  "  I'm  ready  to  start  any 
minute  they  want  to  go,  an'  I  promise  I  won't  give 
'em  any  trouble.  Oh,  Steve,  I  must  get  away  from 
here !  " 

"  All  right !  I'll  try  an'  fix  it  for  you,"  returned 
Steve.  "  Wouldn't  it  be  a  surprise  for  your  folks  if 
they  saw  you  walk  in  one  fine  day  ?  I  don't  quite 
know  where  they  live,  except  that  they're  some- 
where on  the  Cochetopa  Creek,  but  I  reckon  if  you 
do  get  that  far  as  you'll  find  'em.  I'll  see  the  miner 
to-morrow.  He's  cam  pin'  t'other  side  o'  the  vil- 
lage. I  guess  he  won't  object  to  takin'  you,  as  I'll 


252  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

tell  him  you're  a  handy  little  chap.  I  believe  I'd 
have  gone  an'  seen  you  safe  there  myself,  but  I'm 
goin'  to  look  after  cattle  down  on  the  Huerfano." 

'*  You  are  good  to  me,  Steve  !  "  cried  Jack,  throw- 
ing his  arms  round  the  cowboy's  neck  and  hugging 
him.  "  I  thought  you'd  save  me  somehow,  an'  I  do 
love  you  so/' 

"  There  !  that'll  do,  young  'un,"  said  Steve  good- 
naturedly.  ';  Go  home  an'  keep  quiet,  for  if  that 
Avoman  gets  wind  o'  our  plans,  it'll  be  all  up,  for  she 
ain't  goin'  to  give  up  a  slavey  like  you.  But  look 
here !  How  shall  I  let  you  know  if  he'll  take  you  ? " 
as  Jack  was  turning  to  go. 

He  stopped,  and  after  a  little  more  talking  it  was 
decided  that  Steve  was  to  interview  the  miner  on 
Jack's  behalf,  and  if  the  man  agreed  to  let  the  boy 
go  with  them  to  the  mountains,  Steve  was  to  ride 
past  his  father's  house  the  next  morning  and  wave 
a  red  handkerchief  as  a  sign  of  success. 

They  parted  in  great  spirits,  but  both  were  too 
young  to  know  what  a  great  undertaking  it  was 
they  were  contemplating  for  such  a  young  boy. 
Jack  had  no  notion  of  the  distance  it  was  to  his 
parents'  new  home  and  Steve's  was  scarcely  less 
vague.  Jack's  one  idea  was  to  start  off  and  find 
his  Father  and  Mother  somehow. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Bvrne  was  in  a  very  bad 
temper  and  was  a  great  trial  to  poor  Jack.  Noth- 
ing he  could  do  was  right  in  her  eyes,  and  being  in 
a  state  of  anxious  excitement  himself  over  the  re- 
sult of  Steve's  mission  he  made  some  trifling 
blunders  which  brought  swift  correction  upon  him, 
and  many  a  time  his  ear  tingled  from  a  blow  from 
her  hand. 

He  was  busily  engaged  in  washing  the  kitchen 
floor  when  he  heard  a  horse  coming  rapidly  along 
the  dusty  road.  He  knew  what  it  was,  and,  unable 
to  resist  the  temptation,  he  jumped  up  from  his 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  253 

knees  and  rushed  to  the  door.  Unluckily  for  him 
Mrs.  Byrne  came  in  from  the  garden  at  that  mo- 
ment and  met  him  at  the  doorway.  Seeing  him,  as 
she  thought,  neglecting  his  work,  she  seized  him  by 
the  arm  and  pulling  him  back  roughly  into  the 
kitchen  said  angrily,  "You  lazy  imp!  The  moment 
my  back's  turned,  you  leave  the  washin'.  I  thought 
your  uncle  had  taught  you  a  lesson  two  nights  ago, 
an'  mark  you,  I'll  give  you  another  hidin'  as  you'll 
remember  if  I  catch  you  shirkin'  your  work." 

But  Jack  cared  nothing  for  her  threatening  words 
now.  In  the  one  glimpse  he  had  got  through  the 
doorway  he  had  seen  Steve  galloping  past  and 
waving  in  his  hand  the  red  handkerchief  of  success. 

Hope  sprang  high  in  the  boy's  heart,  and  with  a 
bright  smile  on  his  face  he  set  to  work  once  more 
at  the  dirty  floor,  scrubbing  with  a  will.  Nothing 
put  him  out  again  that  day.  He  carried  pail  after 
pail  of  water  through  the  hot  sun  without  a  sigh, 
although  it  blistered  his  hands,  for  there  was  a  great 
thought  of  jo v  to  cheer  him  on — "  The  last  time  for 
her !  " 

When  he  met  Steve  in  the  evening  he  heard  the 
wagon  was  to  start  at  daybreak,  and  Jeff  Ralston, 
the  miner,  was  willing  to  take  him  as  far  as  the 
mountains  if  he  were  there  in  time,  but  on  no  con- 
sideration would  they  wait  one  moment  for  him. 

"  I'll  be  there,  never  fear,"  exclaimed  Jack  joy- 
fully. 

"  This  Jeff  seems  a  rough,  good-natured  fellow," 
went  on  Steve,  "  an'  he'll  be  kind  to  you  I  guess  if 
he  don't  get  drunk.  He's  like  my  Father  when  he 
is  that,  he  ain't  no  use  at  all ;  but  there  isn't  much 
to  drink  on  the  prairie,  so  I  expect  vou'll  be  all 
right." 

Jack  was  quite  grateful  enough  to  please  Steve, 
although  the  little  boy  did  not  know  that  his  kind- 
hearted  cousin,  had  given  the  miner  some  of  his  own 


254  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

hard-earned  dollars  to  secure  bis  goodwill  towards 
the  juvenile  traveler. 

"  You'd  better  get  home  an'  to  bed  now,"  said 
Steve  at  last,  "  or  you'll  miss  getting  up  in  time.  I 
hope  you'll  get  through  safe,  Jack,  an'  perhaps  I'll 
come  an'  look  you  up  myself  some  day." 

"  Good-by,  Steve,  I  won't  ever  forget  you,  an' 
I'll  tell  father  an'  mother  how  you  helped  me  off 
to  see  them,"  said  Jack  gratefully,  and  after  an 
affectionate  farewell  the  cousins  parted. 

Jack  went  to  bed  directly  he  got  into  the  house, 
but  never  a  wink  of  sleep  did  he  get.  He  lay  quite 
still  for  hours,  until  the  deep  breathing  through  the 
thin  partitions  told  him  that  the  rest  of  the  family 
were  slumbering  soundly.  Then  he  arose  and 
dressed  himself.  Making  no  noise  and  carrying  his 
boots,  and  a  blanket,  which  was  his  own  property, 
he  got  out  of  his  window  quietly  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes was  hurrying  along  the  road  towards  the  out- 
skirts of  the  village  in  the  direction  of  the  miner's 
camp. 

It  was  a  starlight  night,  which  enabled  him  be- 
fore very  long  to  make  out,  a  little  way  ahead  of 
him,  a  big  prairie  schooner  with  four  horses  teth- 
ered near  by  long  ropes.  Close  up  under  the  wag- 
ons he  saw  the  figures  of  two  men  sleeping  on  the 
ground,  and  not  wishing  to  disturb  them  he  lay 
down  near  them  to  wait  until  they  awoke.  But  his 
long  hours  of  wakefulness  had  tired  him  out  and  he 
fell  asleep. 

He  was  aroused  by  a  stir  in  camp  to  find  prepara- 
tions going  on  for  breakfast.  He  felt  chilly  from, 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  was  not  sorry  to  see  a 
nice  fire  of  sticks  burning  near  him.  A  man  was 
putting  a  kettle  of  water  on  to  boil,  and  as  Jack 
rose  up  and  approached  him,  he  welcomed  him  in  a 
gruff  but  not  unkindly  way. 

"  How  do,  kid  ?     I  didn't  disturb  you  out  o'  your 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  255 

sleep  ?  Are  you  the  young  'un  as  Steve  Byrne  came 
about  last  night  ?  You  want  to  go  along  with  our 
outfit  as  far  as  the  Range,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  please,"  answered  Jack.  "  I'm  going  to 
my  father.  He's  way  over  in  the  San  Luis  Yalley, 
up  on  the  Cochetopa  Creek." 

"  Cochetopa  Creek  !  "  ejaculated  the  man.  "  Why, 
boy,  that's  over  two  hundred  an'  fifty  miles  from 
here,  an'  you'll  have  to  cross  the  '  Rockies,'  too. 
Say,  Lem,"  he  called  out,  "  here's  an  enterprising 
young  'un.  He's  startin'  off  alone  for  Cochetopa 
Creek.  "What  d'you  think  o'  that  ?  " 

"  He'll  never  get  there,"  returned  his  companion, 
who  had  been  looking  after  the  horses  and  came  up 
at  that  moment. 

"  You're  right,  Lem,  I  do  believe,"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "  Just  listen  to  me,  boy  !  A  kid  like  you 
can  never  travel  so  far.  Take  my  advice  an'  go 
back  to  the  folks  as  looks  after  you  here." 

"  No,  I  won't,"  answered  Jack,  sturdily,  "  I've 
started  now,  an'  I  ain't  goin'  back  for  no  one.  If 
you  won't  take  me  I'll  go  on  an'  walk.  My  father's 
sent  for  me,  but  my  uncle  wont't  let  me  go.  I  guess 
he  shan't  stop  me  now." 

"  "Well,  you're  a  plucky  kid,  as  sure  as  my  name's 
Jeff  Ralston,"  declared  the  miner. 

"  How  soon  is  grub  to  be  ready  ? "  asked  Lem, 
impatiently.  "  I'd  better  harness  up  the  team  while 
I'm  waitin',  as  we  want  to  get  away  soon." 

"  All  right.  I'll  call  you  when  I've  made  some 
oatmeal  porridge.  Here,  kid,  go  to  the  wagon  an' 
get  out  the  tin  cups  an'  plates." 

Jack  obeyed,  and  was  so  quick  getting  out  the 
things  he  pleased  Jeff,  who  remarked  to  him,  when 
he  saw  Lem  was  safe  out  of  earshot,  "  Look  here ! 
Ye're  a  sharp  lad,  an'  I'm  glad  I  promised  Steve 
Byrne  as  I'd  do  my  best  for  you.  All  the  same  I'm 
a  bit  afraid  as  to  how  Lem'll  take  it,  for  he  can't 


256         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

abide  kids,  an'  I  haven't  told  him  as  you're  a-comin* 
along  with  us.  He's  my  mate  an'  a  terribly  cranky 
chap." 

"  I  won't  bother  him  a  bit,"  cried  Jack,  delighted 
to  find  one  of  his  escort  inclined  to  be  so  friendly, 
and  hoping  to  be  able  in  time  to  please  the  doubtful 
Lem. 

Jack  confessed  to  himself  he  did  not  like  the 
man's  looks  at  all,  and  when  Jeff  at  breakfast  in- 
timated to  him  that  he  intended  to  take  "  the  kid  " 
along,  he  only  received  a  disapproving  "  Humph  " 
in  return.  Jack,  distrusting  the  dark,  sullen  face, 
determined  to  have  as  little  as  possible  to  do  with 
him  while  he  formed  one  of  their  party. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  257 


CHAPTER  IV. 

JACK  STARTS  ON  HIS  JOURNEY. 

THE  sun  had  not  risen  far  above  the  horizon  when 
the  wagon  started.  The  men  very  carefully  ex- 
tinguished every  ember  of  their  camp-fire  before 
they  left  the  place,  by  pouring  buckets  of  water  over 
it,  as  the  laws  were  very  strict  on  that  point.  Many 
of  the  terrible  prairie  fires  are  traced  from  time  to 
time  to  sparks  left  by  careless  people  camping  out, 
which,  blown  by  the  wind,  ignite  the  dry  grass  near, 
and  start  the  destructive  flames  which  spread  and 
rush  on  for  miles,  carrying  ruin  in  their  track. 

Lem  sat  in  front  of  the  wagon  driving  the  four 
horses,  Avhile  Jeff  was  beside  him,  both  smoking. 
As  Jack  was  afraid  of  being  pursued,  Jeff  suggested 
it  would  be  safer  for  him  to  ride  inside  the  wagon 
for  the  first  day  or  two.  They  had  only  got  a  few 
miles  from  Longview,  when  Jeff  perceived  a  horse- 
man riding  after  them,  evidently  bent  on  overtaking 
them. 

"  Lie  down,  boy !  "  he  called  through  the  wagon 
opening  to  Jack,  "we're  followed  already.  Get 
under  the  blankets." 

Poor  Jack  obeyed,  trembling  with  fright,  and 
not  daring  to  look  out  and  see  who  it  was.  How 
relieved  he  felt  when  the  horse  came  up  close  be- 
hind and  he  heard  Steve's  cheery  voice  hailing  them, 
"  Hi,  stop  ! " 

"  Hold  on,  Lem,  for  a  bit,"  cried  Jeff,   "  it's  the 
young  'un  he  wants  to  see." 
17 


258  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Lem  pulled  up  with  evident  reluctance. 

"  Have  you  got  the  kid  ? "  asked  Steve,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  there  he  be,"  returned  Jeif,  as  Jack's  happy 
face  looked  out  through  the  canvas  curtains ;  "  I 
guess  we  can  take  care  o'  him  for  a  spell  of  the 
way  ;  but  though  he's  got  his  head  screwed  on  right, 
an'  he  has  plenty  o'  pluck,  I  doubt  if  he'll  ever  get 
as  far  as  Cochetopa  Creek." 

"  He's  bound  to  go,"  said  Steve,  "  an'  I  leave  him 
now  in  your  trust,  Jeif." 

Steve  could  not  help  laying  a  slight  emphasis  on 
the  your  when  speaking  to  Jeif,  for  there  was  no 
doubt  his  face  had  fallen  considerably  when  he  per- 
ceived that  Lem  Adams  was  Jeif  s  mate.  He  had 
known  two  men  were  going,  but  Jeif  Ralston  was  the 
only  one  he  had  seen  the  day  before  when  he  went 
over  to  the  camp  to  negotiate  on  Jack's  behalf. 
He  had  not  thought  of  asking  the  other  man's 
name,  and  now  he  was  sorry  enough  to  find  that 
Lem  was  one  of  Jack's  companions.  Some  months 
before,  Steve  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  Lem  Adams 
in  a  mining  town,  and  disliked  him  intensely,  having 
found  him  a  bad,  untrustworthy  man.  Lem  hated 
Steve  too,  and  the  scowl  on  his  face  was  not  pleasant 
to  see  as  he  looked  at  the  young  cowboy. 

Jack  had  jumped  out  of  the  back  of  the  Avagon 
upon  Steve's  arrival,  and  now  the  latter  pulled  his 
horse  round  to  where  the  boy  stood,  and  leaning 
from  his  saddle  he  whispered,  so  that  the  others 
could  not  hear,  u  Look  out  as  you  don't  vex  that 
black-lookin'  fellow.  He's  a  mean  chap  an'  hates 
me,  so  I'm  feared  as  he'll  plague  ye  if  he  gets  the 
chance,  but  Jeif'll  see  as  ye  ain't  bullied  if  he  don't 

Set  drunk.     Take  this,  lad,  it  may  be  useful,  but 
on't  let  on  as  you  have  it."      He  slipped  a  small 
paper  packet  into  Jack's  hand,  and  shook  his  head 
warningly  to  stop  his  words  of  thanks. 

Then  calling  out,  "  Good-by,  Jack,  keep  a  good 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  259 

heart  up,,  an'  good  luck  go  with  you,"  he  put  spurs 
to  his  horse  and  galloped  away. 

Jack  stood  gazing  after  him  until  he  was  lost  to 
sight  in  a  cloud  of  dust ;  then,  holding  the  packet- 
tight  in  his  hand,  he  remounted  the  wagon,  and 
they  moved  on  once  more  over  the  dusty  road. 

It  was  August,  and  the  hot  sun  poured  down  its 
relentless  r/iys  on  the  prairie  schooner  and  its 
occupants  traveling  slowly  on,  but  Jack  never 
grumbled.  He  was  happy  enough,  kncfwing  that, 
he  had  started  out  on  his  long  journey,  and  what 
cared  he  for  the  heat  when  he  found  himself  mov- 
ing along  the  same  road  over  which  his  dear  father 
and  mother  had  traveled  before. 

But  to  return  for  a  time  to  Longview.  Jack's 
absence  from  his  uncle's  house  was  not  noticed  un- 
til breakfast  time.  When  he  was  first  missed,  the 
Byrnes  concluded  he  had  gone  to  look  for  the  cow, 
as  there  was  no  morning's  milk  in  the  place  where 
Jack  usually  left  it.  A  few  hours  later  they  were 
surprised  to  hear  "  Roanie,"  lowing  near  the  yard 
gate,  and  knew  that  the  wandering  animal  must  have 
actually  come  back  of  her  own  accord  to  be  milked. 
But  where  was  Jack  ?  Roanie's  arrival  caused  quite 
a  stir.  Mat  Byrne  began  to  think  something  was 
wrong,  and  he  and  the  two  boys  sallied  forth  to  look 
for  the  truant  in  the  village. 

They  asked  various  people,  and  no  one  had  seen 
Jack,  and  though  they  hunted  about  well,  they 
could  not  find  him.  His  uncle  got  very  angry,  and 
vowed  to  pay  him  out  when  he  caught  him  again. 

Luckily  for  Jack  his  uncle  never  once  supposed  so 
young  a  boy  would  think  of  running  away,  and  he 
made  sure  that  by  evening  Jack  would  return  to  his 
house  hungry  and  repentant. 

He,  at  first,  thought  he  would  find  Jack  with  his 
own  son,  Steve,  and  therefore  was  greatly  surprised 
to  see  the  latter  riding  carelessly  about  the  village 


260  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

all  day.  Steve  rode  past  him  giving  him  an  in- 
different nod,  and  his  father  little  thought  how 
closely  the  cowboy  was  watching  every  movement 
he  made. 

Never  for  one  moment  did  Mat  Byrne  connect 
Jack's  disappearance  with  the  departure  of  the  two 
miners  that  morning,  and  when  it  dawned  on  the 
searchers  the  next  day,  after  having  ransacked  every 
shed  and  building  in  Longview,  that  they  must  look 
further  afield  for  the  missing  boy,  our  fugitive  was 
too  far  away  to  fear  recapture.  Byrne  made  many 
inquiries  from  incoming  travelers,  as  to  whether 
they  had  seen  a  boy  anywhere  along  the  different 
roads,  but  thanks  to  Jeff's  precautions,  not  a  soul 
passing  their  wagon  had  seen  the  small  boy  hiding 
under  the  blankets,  and  unable  to  get  any  clue  to 
the  direction  Jack  had  gone  in,  his  uncle  was  at 
last  obliged  to  give  up  the  search. 

For  three  or  four  days  Jack  was  very  careful  to 
keep  out  of  sight,  but  as  they  got  farther  away  from 
Longview  he  felt  safer  and  breathed  more  freely. 
He  was  always  glad  when  they  stopped  to  camp  for 
the  night,  as  his  legs  got  very  cramped  in  the  wagon. 
If  possible,  they  halted  each  time  near  some  spring 
or  creek  of  water,  where  they  could  get  plenty  for 
man  and  beast  to  drink. 

As  a  rule  every  one  had  his  own  work  allotted  to 
him,  and,  knowing  what  each  one  had  to  do,  this 
saved  all  confusion  when  forming  their  camps.  Lena 
looked  after  the  four  horses,  unharnessed  them, 
watered  them,  gave  them  their  feeds  and  picketed 
them  out  where  the  grass  grew  most  plentifully. 
Jeff  was  cook,  and  Jack  helped  them  both.  Jeff 
found  him  most  useful.  He  collected  fir-cones  and 
bits  of  pinon  or  birch-bark  to  start  the  fires  with, 
and  kept  them  going  with  sticks  ;  he  filled  the  camp- 
kettle  from  the  spring  while  Jeff  fried  the  beefsteak 
or  sausage-meat,  and  even  Lem  looked  less  sullen 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  261 

when  he  found  how  much  quicker  he  got  his  meals 
than  before  Jack  came. 

Always  after  they  had  eaten  their  food  Jack 
washed  up  the  things  in  a  bucket,  and  put  them 
tidily  by  in  their  places  in  the  wagon,  while  the  men 
lounged  by  the  fire  and  smoked.  Jack  soon  got  used 
to  the  life,  although  it  seemed  very  strange  to  him 
to  find  himself  every  night  farther  away  from  Long- 
view,  and  getting  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  grand 
mountains  which  they  could  just  see  stretching 
along  in  a  huge  range  miles  ahead  of  them. 

Jeff  liked  Jack  better  every  day,  and  asked  him  a 
great  deal  about  his  people.  One  day  he  questioned 
him  about  his  mother,  and  being  a  subject  dear  to 
the  boy's  heart,  he  launched  forth  into  a  glowing 
description  of  her,  which  quickly  showed  the  rough 
miner  what  a  good  influence  she  had  exercised  over 
her  little  son. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  slowly,  "  I  understand  you.  now, 
my  lad.  Your  mother  was  one  Avorth  havin'.  But 
you  say  she  taught  you  prayers  an'  hymns.  I  don't 
care  about  prayers,  but  I'm  powerful  fond  o'  singin'. 
Could  you  give  us  one  o'  your  mother's  hymns 
now  ?  " 

They  were  all  sitting  round  the  fire  after  supper, 
but  Lem  seemed  half  asleep  as  Jack  and  Jeff  talked. 
In  answer  to  the  latter's  questions  the  boy  said, — 

"  Aye !  of  course  I  can.  I'll  sing  you  the  one  as 
Father  liked  best,  .for  he  used  to  sing  it  when  he  was 
freightm'  an'  campin'  out  as  we're  doin'  now." 

"  Give  it  us,  my  lad,"  said  Jeff,  as  he  refilled  his 
pipe,  and  prepared  to  listen. 

Jack  had  a  sweet  young  voice,  and  possessing  a 
good  ear  for  music,  he  had  quickly  picked  up  the 
tunes  of  his  favorite  hymns  from  his  parents,  who 
both  sang  well. 

Delighted  to  please  his  new  friend  he  struck  up, 
"  Forever  with  the  Lord/'  repeating  the  last  half  of 


262         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  first  verse  as  a  chorus  after  all  the  verses.  Fresh 
and  clear  his  voice  rang  out,  and  when  he  came  to 
the  last  two  lines, — 

"  Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home  !  " 

he  seemed  to  throw  his  whole  energy  into  the 
words. 

The  hymn  struck  home  to  rough  Jeff,  and  when 
it  was  ended  he  said, — • 

"  That's  the  way,  lad.  It's  almost  as  if  them 
words  were  written  for  such  rovin'  chaps  as  us. 
Don't  stop.  I  like  it.  Give  us  another." 

Jack  was  only  too  glad  to  go  on.  lie  sang  his 
mother's  favorite,  "  My  God,  My  Father,  while  I 
stray,"  and  followed  it  by  many  more,  until  his 
voice  got  tired.  Sometimes  he  forgot  a  verse  here 
and  there,  but  he  remembered  enough  to  show  Jeff 
that  he  must  have  sung  the  hymns  day  after  day  to 
know  them  so  well  by  heart. 

Lem  had  sat  silently  on  the  far  side  of  the  camp- 
fire,  but  as  Jack  ceased  singing  he  said  sneeringly, 
"  Say  !  Jeff,  you  ain't  been  much  o'  a  hymn-fancier 
afore  to-night,  I  reckon." 

"No,  I  ain't,"  returned  the  miner,  quietly; 
"  more's  the  pity  perhaps.  If  I'd  had  such  a  mother 
to  teach  me,  1  dare  say  I'd  have  lived  a  deal 
straighter  life  than  I  have  done.  I  don't  remember 
my  mother.  She  died  when  I  was  a  babby,  but  if 
she'd  been  like  Jack's,  I  reckon  I'd  have  gone  as  far 
to  see  her  as  he's  agoin'." 

Lem  grunted.  In  spite  of  himself  he  had  liked 
listening  to  the  boy's  singing,  but  the  words  that  he 
sang  had  made  no  impression  on  him. 

Jeff  always  sent  Jack  early  to  bed,  for  the  unusual 
fatigue  made  the  little  fellow  feel  very  tired  and 
weary  towards  night.  He  slept  in  the  wagon,  for  Jeff 
Jaad  said  after  the  first  day,  "  Jest  roll  yourseF  up 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  263 

cosy  in  there.  Lena  an'  I  are  used  to  sleepin'  on  the 
ground  an'  like  it  best,  but  it's  different  for  a  kid 
like  you." 

Jack  soon  became  attached  to  the  good-natured 
miner,  and  he  felt  as  long  as  he  \vas  present  he  need 
not  feel  in  the  least  afraid  of  Lem  troubling  him. 


264  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


JACK   GOES    IN    SEARCH    OF    "  NIGGER. 

FOR  nearly  three  weeks  the  horses  dragged  the 
wagon  slowly  on  over  the  prairie',  and  although  it 
was  very  hot  and  dusty,  Jack  was  as  happy  as  a 
sandboy. 

For  some  days  they  had  made  very  short  journeys, 
as  one  of  the  horses  had  rubbed  a  sore  place  on  its 
shoulder,  and  consequently  refused  to  pull  at  all. 
Lena  at  last  had  to  tie  it  on  at  the  back  of  the 
wagon,  and  arrange  the  other  three  animals  in  uni- 
corn fashion,  that  is,  one  in  front  of  two.  This,  of 
course,  delayed  their  progress  a  good  deal. 

Jack  was  delighted  with  the  novelty  of  allhesa\v, 
and  a  band  of  antelopes  bounding  away  in  the  dis- 
tance nearly  drove  him  wild  with  excitement.  One 
evening  they  came  upon  some  cowboys  who  had  just 
bunched  up  a  huge  herd  of  cattle  for  the  night. 
There  were  nearly  three  thousand  beasts,  and  it  was 
a  wonderful  sight  to  see  how  a  few  men  managed 
to  keep  so  many  cattle  in  check.  The  cowboys  were 
stationed  on  their  horses  at  near  distances  all  round 
the  herd  like  so  many  sentinels. 

If  an  animal  broke  away,  a  horseman  was  af i  ^r  it 
at  lightning  speed.  With  a  swift  turn  of  his  arm 
the  cowboy  would  throw  the  lariat  with  a  true  aim 
over  the  horns  of  the  runaway,  and  the  sagacious 
horse,  knowing  what  is  expected  from  it,  would 
twist  round  on  his  hind  legs,  and  the  jerk  on  the 
rope  brought  the  fugitive  to  the  ground.  Some- 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  265 

times  the  cowboys  galloped  round  the  running 
beast,  and  headed  it  back  to  the  herd  without  using 
the  lariat  or  long  leather  rope. 

Jack  and  his  companions  camped  for  the  night 
close  to  the  cowboys,  and  Jack  took  a  great  interest 
in  them  for  Steve's  sake.  They  relieved  each,  other 
like  guards  all  through  the  night. 

The  way  they  rode  was  wonderful  in  Jack's  eyes, 
and  their  horses  were  so  well  trained  they  turned 
whichever  side  their  rider  leaned  over  on,  and  if  he 
wanted  to  stop  altogether  he  just  threw  the  reins 
over  the  animal's  head  on  to  the  ground  and  it 
remained  quite  still. 

There  was  great  work  next  morning,  as  the  cow- 
boys made  an  early  start,  and  the  bustle  was  most 
exciting  to  Jack  as  he  watched  them  standing  or 
sitting  in  groups  round  their  grub- wagon  eating  their 
breakfast.  Then  directly  after,  they  tightened  their 
saddles,  and  before  long  the  gigantic  herd  of  cattle 
moved  slowly  on.  Such  a  bellowing  they  made,  and 
the  dust  rose  in  a  huge  cloud  behind  them,  in  which 
they  were  soon  lost  to  sight.  Their  grub-wagon 
followed  them,  and  shortly  after  Lem  got  his  horses 
harnessed,  and  he,  Jeff,  and  Jack,  taking  their 
places  in  their  prairie  schooner,  rolled  on  towards 
the  mountains  once  more. 

These  mountains  which  were  getting  nearer  every 
day,  were  a  fresh  source  of  wonder  to  Jack.  He 
had  lived  all  his  life  on  the  flat  prairie  where  there 
was  not  even  a  hill  to  be  seen,  and  he  wras  speech- 
less with  surprise  as  he  gazed  on  the  snow-capped 
pe.  s  in  front  of  him,  stretching  up  into  the  blue 
sky.  Lower  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains  the 
dark  forests  of  trees  spread  for  miles,  and  Jeff 
pointed  out  to  him  where  the  deep  ravines  or  canons 
Avere,  through  which  the  mountain  creeks  rushed 
down  to  the  valleys  fringed  all  along  their  banks 
with  quaking  aspens  and  cottonwood  trees. 


266  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

How  pleased  Jack  felt  to  think  that  his  new 
home  must  be  somewhere  in  sight  of  these  glorious 
mountains,  and  already  the  air  they  breathed 
seemed  very  different  from  the  hot,  close  atmosphere 
at  Long  view. 

One  evening  they  made  their  camp  for  the  night 
just  outside  a  Mexican  village.  It  was  a  very  queer- 
looking  place,  and  Jack  stared  about  him  in  aston- 
ishment, lie  had  seen  Mexicans  passing  through 
Longview  occasionally,  and  now  he  had  come  to  a 
village  where  no  one  but  Mexicans  lived.  The 
houses  were  not  built  of  wood,  like  those  at  Long- 
view,  but  were  made  of  a  kind  of  mud  called  adobe. 
This  adobe  was  shaped  into  bricks  and  baked.  The 
houses  looked  so  funny.  Some  were  quite  round 
like  beehives,  and  one  thing  that  amused  Jack  very 
much  was  that  many  of  the  doors  were  half-way  up 
the  front  wall  of  the  houses,  and  when  people 
wanted  to  go  in  and  out,  they  went  up  and  down 
ladders  placed  to  reach  the  openings. 

That  evening  after  supper,  Lem  persuaded  Jeff 
to  walk  into  the  village,  leaving  Jack,  as  usual,  to 
wash  up  the  things.  The  boy  felt  a  mistrust  of 
Lem  when  he  saw  how  maliciously  triumphant  he 
looked  as  he  strolled  away  from  the  camp  accom- 
panied by  Jeff.  He  watched  them  as  far  as  the  vil- 
lage, and  then  returned  to  his  work.  "When  it  Avas 
finished  he  sat  contentedly  down  by  the  fire  to  wait 
for  them.  It  got  later  and  later,  but  his  compan- 
ions did  not  return,  and  at  last,  unable  to  keep 
awake  any  longer,  he  went  to  bed. 

He  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep,  from  which  he  was 
roused  by  hearing  men's  voices.  Starting  up,  he 
listened  and  heard  his  companions  returning.  They 
were  singing  and  shouting  in  a  wild,  boisterous  way 
that  struck  terror  to  Jack's  heart,  for  he  knew  from 
such  sounds  that  they  must  have  been  drinking 
heavily.  Their  loud,  rough  voices  frightened  him, 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  267 

and  he  lay  very  still  inside  the  wagon  for  fear  they 
should  see  him.  He  could  tell  Lera  was  in  a  quar- 
relsome mood,  and  trembled  as  they  hunted  about 
in  the  back  of  the  wagon  for  their  blankets,  swear- 
ing and  growling  all  the  time.  At  last  they  sank 
into  heavy  slumbers,  but  all  sleep  had  fled  from 
Jack's  eyes  at  the  fresh  trouble  that  had  arisen  for 
him.  The  two  men  were  evidently  given  to  drink, 
the  awful  curse  in  the  "West,  and  had  taken  the  op- 
portunity of  a  first  halt  at  a  village  to  satisfy  their 
craving  for  it.  It  was  a  terrible  thought  for  poor 
Jack,  for  he  knew  from  what  they  had  said  there 
must  be  many  mining  camps  ahead  of  them,  and  of 
course  in  such  places  there  would  be  awful  tempta- 
tions for  men  like  them,  and  his  heart  sank  at  the 
idea  of  being  alone  with  such  companions. 

lie  lay  awake  for  hours,  and  dropped  into  a  kind 
of  doze  towards  morning.  He  rose  early  and  moved 
very  quietly,  fearful  of  disturbing  Jeff  and  Lem 
after  their  night's  carousal.  He  went  to  water 
the  horses,  and  to  his  surprise  found  one  had  dis- 
appeared. 

It  had  evidently  dragged  its  picket-rope  from 
the  pegs  that  secured  it,  doubtless  frightened  by 
the  noise  in  camp  the  previous  night.  It  was  the 
horse  that  had  been  led  behind  the  wagon  on  ac- 
count of  its  sore  shoulder,  and  it  probably  was 
fresher  than  the  other  three  horses  and  more  likely 
to  run  away.  It  was  unshod,  and  unfortunately 
there  was  no  impression  on  the  short,  dry  herbage, 
to  show  Jack  which  way  it  had  gone.  He  wandered 
away  a  short  distance  from  the  camp  looking  for 
the  fugitive,  but,  unable  to  see  anything  of  it,  he 
returned,  and  began  to  prepare  breakfast. 

Just  as  it  was  ready  Lem  roused  up,  and  came 
grumbling  towards  the  fire.  Jack  saw  it  was  wiser 
not  to  speak  to  him  as  he  looked  very  cross  indeed, 
and  the  boy  could  not  help  wishing  his  friend  Jeff 


208         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

.would  also  wake  up,  as  he  always  felt  safer  in  his 
presence. 

They  silently  ate  their  breakfast,  until  Lem,  look- 
ing over  towards  the  group  of  horses,  asked  sud- 
denly, 

"  Where's  digger? " 

"  He  was  right  enough  when  I  went  to  bed  last 
night,"  returned  Jack,  "  but  I  found  him  gone  this 
mornin'.  I  expect  he  dragged  his  picket-rope  and 
got  away." 

Lem  darted  an  angry  look  at  the  boy.  "  I  believe 
you  loosed  him  yoursel',"  he  exclaimed  furiously, 
"  to  pay  Jeff  and  me  out,  for  goin'  for  a  bit  of  a 
spree  into  the  village ! " 

"  I  didn't,"  cried  Jack  indignantly ;  "  I  wouldn't 
do  such  a  mean  trick  nohow." 

"  I  don't  believe  you,  there  !  "  declared  Lem,  in- 
sultingly. "  I  can't  abide  kids,  an'  I  wouldn't  trust 
one  of  'em  anywhere.  I  was  mad  when  I  heard  as 
Jeff  was  bent  on  bringin'  you  along  with  us." 

In  vain  Jack  protested  he  knew  nothing  about 
the  horse's  escape.  Lem's  temper  was  bad  from  the 
effects  of  his  drinking  bout,  and  as  ill-luck  would 
have  it,  the  boy  was  the  victim  of  it. 

"  Look  here,  kid,"  he  said  sternly,  "  it  was  your 
business  to  see  to  them  creatures  when  we  were  gone 
away,  an'  I  guess  you'll  skip  out  an'  find  that  there 
<  Nigger  '  as  quick  as  you  can.  Not  a  step  on  with 
us  do  you  go,  till  he's  brought  back  again !  " 

"  I've  looked  all  round  the  camp  this  mornin'," 
said  Jack  dolefully,  "  but  I  haven't  seen  no  tracks 
of  him.  Would  you  let  me  get  on  '  Yankee  Boy ' 
an'  ride  over  to  that  clump  of  trees  over  there  ? " 

"No!  I  guess  you  can  walk  that  far,"  returned 
Lem,  "  an'  I  reckon  you'd  better  not  come  back 
again  without  the  horse.  1  mayhap  would  like 
to  ride  '  Yankee  Boy '  mysel'  an'  have  a  look 
round." 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  269 

Poor  Jack !  He  looked  wistfully  at  the  recum- 
bent figure  of  Jeff  who  was  still  in  a  deep  slumber, 
and  the  lad,  seeing  there  was  no  help  for  it,  had  to 
put  the  best  face  he  could  on  the  matter,  and  sally 
forth.  He  carried  a  long  leather  rope  to  catch  the 
horse  with,  and  walked  towards  the  trees,  which 
were  about  a  couple  of  miles  from  the  camp. 

As  he  approached  them,  he  noticed  they  were 

f  rowing  at  the  entrance  of  a  deep  ravine  th'at  ran 
ack  towards  the  mountains  with  a  creek  running 
through  it.  It  was  a  very  rough  place ;  boulders 
lay  strewed  about,  but  here  and  there  were  patches 
of  grass  which  looked  so  much  fresher  and  greener 
than  what  grew  on  the  prairie  that  Jack  noticed 
the  difference.  It  also  struck  him  that  the  grass 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  freshly  trampled,  and  in  a 
moment  the  idea  flashed  into  his  mind  that  "  Nigger" 
had  without  doubt  wandered  up  the  ravine.  Jack 
never  hesitated  a  moment,  but  started  to  follow  up . 
the  tracks  he  saw  so  plainly.  It  was  a  pleasant 
change  from  the  hot  prairie,  as  the  trees  shaded  him 
from  the  sun,  and  he  climbed  steadily  on  ove'r  the 
stony  path,  hoping  every  minute  to  come  on  the 
truant.  The  ravine  ran  between  towering  Avails 
of  rock  covered  with  pifion  and  oak-scrub,  and  com- 
pletely hid  all  the  adjoining  prairie  from  view. 

At  last  Jack  turned  a  corner  of  rock,  and  saw 
ahead  a  small  band  of  bronchos,  or  prairie  horses, 
lie  hurried  on  hoping  to  find  the  object  of  his 
search,  but,  alas  !  "  Nigger  "  was  not  amongst  them, 
and  his  weary  toil  up  the  long  ravine  had  been  on 
a  false  trail  after  all !  The  wild  ponies  were  scared 
at  the  sight  of  him  appearing  to  disturb  their  lone- 
liness, and  scampered  away  up  the  steep  sides  of 
the  precipice  like  goats,  leaving  Jack  gazing  sadly 
after  them.  It  was  a  great  disappointment,  and 
tears  were  not  far  from  the  boy's  eyes  as,  tired  out, 
he  sat  down,  on  a  rock  for  a'rest.  It  was  no  use 


270  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

pursuing  the  hunt  for  "Nigger"  any  higher  up 
there,  and  seeing  it  would  be  quicker  to  retrace  his 
steps  than  climb  up  the  sides  of  the  rock,  he  turned 
to  make  his  way  down  again.  It  was  long  past  noon 
by  the  time  he  had  scrambled  out  of  the  ravine  and 
stood  once  more  on  the  prairie. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose,  and  with  many  mis- 
givings as  to  the  reception  he  would  receive  from 
the  indignant  Lem,  Jack  hurried  back  as  fast  as  he 
could  towards  the  camp.  He  was  afraid  that  his 
long  and,  alas  !  useless  delay, might  also  have  vexed 
his  friend  Jeff,  which  was  a  thing  to  be  avoided  if 
possible. 

Ahead  of  him  he  saw  the  quaint  Mexican  village, 
but  something  strange  had  taken  place  in  his  ab- 
sence !  What  could  have  happened  ?  Quite  puzzled, 
he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  ran  on  faster  towards  the 
place  where  they  had  camped,  and  reaching  it  could 
hardly  believe  his  own  eyes  when  he  could  see 
nothing  of  the  prairie  wagon,  or  the  horses,  or  the 
camp  he  had  left  in  the  morning  I 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  271 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

JACK   IS   DESERTED. 

JACK  stood  on  the  forsaken  camping-ground,  and 
the  truth  dawned  slowly  on  him — his  companions 
had  gone  on  and  left  him  behind  !  He  noticed  the 
still  damp  embers  of  the  extinguished  fire,  and 
though  there  was  every  indication  of  their  recent 
presence,  not  a  sign  could  he  see  of  the  two  men. 

He  was  very  indignant  at  this  unkind  way  of 
treating  him. 

"  That's  Lem's  doing,"  he  muttered.  "  He's  done 
it  on  purpose  to  spite  me.  I  don't  care  much  ; 
they'll  go  very  slow,  an'  I  guess  I  can  overtake 
them  by  night.  I  hope  Jeff  will  be  right  again  by 
then." 

All  the  same  it  gave  him  a  feeling  of  forlorn- 
ness  to  know  he  was  absolutely  alone  on  the  prairie. 
He  felt  very  hungry,  and  of  course  there  was  noth- 
ing to  eat,  as  all  the  provisions  had  gone  on  in  the 
wagon. 

How  glad  he  now  felt  that  he  had  a  little  money 
of  his  own ;  the  precious  packet  Steve  had  given 
him.  He  took  a  quarter  dollar  out  of  the  store  and 
returned  the  rest  to  a  safe  place  inside  his  shirt. 
He  knew  his  road  la\T  through  the  Mexican  village, 
and  decided  to  follow  it,  hoping  to  see  a  shop  where 
he  could  buy  some  bread. 

Lem  and  Jeff  had  picked  up  a  few  Mexican  words, 
but  of  course  Jack  neither  understood  nor  could 
speak  any  of  the  language.  He  lost  no  time  in  en- 


272  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

tering  the  village,  trusting  to  make  some  one  under- 
stand what  he  wanted,  but  he  had  not  proceeded  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  up  the  main  street  of  the 
place  when  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  Mexican  boys,  all  shouting  at  him  in  a  tongue  he 
did  not  know. 

He  tried  at  first  to  show  them  he  was  hungry  by- 
pointing  to  his  mouth,  but  they  only  jeered  and 
laughed  instead  of  helping  him.  He  got  out  of 
patience  at  last,  and  endeavored  to  make  his  way 
through  the  noisy  band  towards  the  center  of  the 
village.  But  the  boys  pushed  him  back  each  time, 
evidently  thinking  it  great  sport  to  tease  an  unpro- 
tected little  lad. 

Jack  appealed  in  English  to  two  Mexican  men 
who  were  lounging  near,  but  they  seemed  to  enjoy 
watching  the  group  of  cruel  boys  tormenting  him. 
Jack  was  no  coward  although  he  was  so  young,  and 
after  receiving  a  hard  push  from  a  bigger  boy  than 
himself,  he  lost  his  temper,  and  hit  his  opponent  a 
good  blow  between  the  eyes. 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  outburst.  The 
Mexicans  are  a  fierce,  passionate  race,  and  the  boys 
retaliated  on  poor  Jack  by  all  setting  on  him  all  at 
once.  Jack  fought  hard,  and  dealt  out  many  a 
telling  blo\\r,  but  they  were  too  many  and  strong 
for  him,  and  at  last  he  found  himself  being  hustled 
out  of  the  village  where  he  had  entered  it,  while  his 
tormentors  formed  a  long  line  to  prevent  him  trying 
to  come  in  again.  Bleeding  and  bruised,  Jack  felt 
too  worn  out  and  faint  from  hunger  and  the  fight  to 
attempt  another  tussle  with  the  enemy,  so,  like  a 
wise  boy,  he  deemed  "  discretion  the  better  part  of 
valor,"  and,  skirting  the  village,  he  recommenced 
his  weary  trudge  along  the  road  leading  towards 
the  mountains. 

The  range  loomed  up  at  no  great  distance  in 
front  of  him,  and  the  peaks  towered  up  so  high  they 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  273 

seemed  to  pierce  the  bright  blue  sky.  But  as  the 
afternoon  lengthened,  Jack  noticed  that  the  sky  was 
assuming  a  very  threatening  aspect.  Big  clouds 
came  rolling  up  over  the  mountains,  making  them 
look  almost  black  in  the  shadow.  Jack  went  on 
bravely,  hoping  to  reach  some  place  of  shelter  be- 
fore the  storm  broke,  but  it  was  getting  rapidly 
darker  and  his  heart  began  to  sink  at  the  prospect 
ahead. 

Blacker  and  blacker  it  grew  around  him.  Bright 
flashes  of  lightning  shot  from  the  murky  clouds, 
followed  by  loud  crashing  thunder,  which  seemed 
to  shake  the  ground,  and  echoed  and  re-echoed 
through  the  rocky  canons.  In  a  short  time  Jack 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  bad  specimen  of  a  Rocky  Moun- 
tain thunderstorm  and  no  shelter  near  him !  The 
poor  lad  was  terrified  and  crouched  near  the  ground, 
while  the  lightning  played  about  him  and  the  thun- 
der roared  overhead. 

"Oh  dear!  Oh  dear!  I'm  so  frightened, "cried  the 
little  fellow,  and  then  he  remembered  his  mother's 
words — "  Ask  God  to  take  care  of  us  until  we  meet 
again," — an  injunction  he  had  followed  every  day 
since  she  left.  Now  he  knelt  down  and  prayed  to  God, 
Who  rules  the  storms,  asking  Him  to  send  him  help 
and  keep  him  safe,  and  felt  comforted  in  his  fear. 
Soon  the  rain  began  to  come  down  in  torrents,  and 
Jack  was  quickly  drenched  to  the  skin.  The  rain, 
however,  broke  the  power  of  the  storm,  and  before 
long  the  thunder-clouds  rolled  away  and  the  sky 
began  to  clear. 

Chilled  to  the  bone  and  tired  out,  Jack  rose  from 
his  crouching  position  and  moved  on  again,  not 
knowing  whither  he  was  going.  He  had  Avandered 
off  the  road  and  was  aimlessly  walking  on  over  the 
prairie. 

He  began  to  feel  very  queer.  First  he  shivered 
and  his  teeth  chattered  with  cold,  and  a  few  mim.tes 
18 


A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

after  he  was  burning  hot  all  over.  His  head  ached 
and  throbbed  as  if  it  would  burst,  and  a  feeling  of 
giddiness  came  over  him  at  times.  He  tried  to 
think  what  direction  he  ought  to  move  in,  but 
everything  was  buzzing  and  humming  in  his  brain. 
He  thought  he  heard  people  shouting  after  him, 
and  suddenly  imagined  he  could  hear  his  Uncle  Mat's 
harsh  voice  calling  him  !  How  it  seemed  to  ring 
through  his  head  !  It  struck  terror  into  his  weak, 
overstrained  mind,  and  he  rushed  on  wildly  into  the 
gathering  darkness.  Poor  Jack  !  It  was  only  the 
fatigue  and  hunger,  combined  with  the  soaking  he 
had  endured,  that  was  bringing  on  an  attack  of 
fever,  and  all  these  pursuing  noises  were  purely 
imaginary.  He  ran  on,  trying  to  get  away  from 
the  mocking  sounds  which  seemed  to  grow  louder 
and  nearer  every  minute. 

"They'll  satch  me,  I'm  feared,"  he  moaned  in  an 
agony  of  mind  as  he  tore  on,  but  suddenly  his  head- 
long career  was  stopped.  His  foot  tripped,  and  he 
fell  heavily,  knocking  his  head  against  a  stone. 

"  Oh  !  Mother,  Mother,  save  me  !  "  he  shrieked  ; 
"  he'll  get  me  and  take  me  back  !  " — and  the  next 
moment  he  lost  all  consciousness. 

In  the  meantime  our  readers  may  wonder  how  it 
came  to  pass  that  Jeff  had  deserted  his  little  friend, 
and  in.  order  to  tell  you  I  must  go  back  to  the  time 
when  Jack  left  the  camp  to  look  for  the  horse. 
Soon  after  he  had  set  out  for  the  clump  of  trees, 
Lem  had  saddled  "  Yankee  Boy,"  and  after  riding  a 
few  miles,  came  upon  "  Nigger,"  whom  he  at  once 
secured  and  brought  back  to  camp.  He  then  har- 
nessed up  the  four  horses  ready  to  start,  and  as 
Jack  did  not  return  he  grew  very  impatient,  and  while 
idling  about  doing  nothing  an  evil  thought  took 
possession  of  him.  What  a  good  opportunity  he 
had  now  to  pay  off  an  old  score  against  Steve 
Byrne  by  leaving  Jack  behind?  It  was  a  cruel 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  275 

thing  to  think  of  doing,  but  Lem  was  an  unprinci- 
pled fellow  who  cared  little  who  suffered  as  long  as 
he  got  his  revenge. 

He  quickly  finished  his  preparations  for  starting, 
the  last  being  to  hoist  Jeff  into  the  wagon,  where 
he  immediately  dozed  off  again,  quite  unconscious 
of  what  was  going  on.  All  day  he  remained  half- 
stupefied,  and  as  Lem  drove  the  horses  a  long  way 
before  making  a  halt,  it  was  not  far  off  evening 
when  Jeff  discovered  what  had  happened. 

The  indignation  it  roused  in  him  cleared  his 
torpid  brain  as  if  by  magic. 

"  D'you  mean  to  say  as  you've  been  and  left  the 
young  'un  behind  ? "  he  demanded. 

''  That's  so,'1  returned  Lem,  coolly  ;  "  I  found  as 
he'd  been  at  some  tricks,  so  I  guessed  we'd  get  rid 
of  him.  I  sent  him  to  look  for  '  Nigger,'  and 
skipped  out  afore  he  got  back." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  declared  Jeff.  "Jack  wasn't 
a  kid  to  play  tricks,  and  I  call  it  a  crying  shame  to 
desert  him.  You  daren't  have  done  it  if  I'd  known 
what  was  goin'  on.  I  blame  mysel'  for  it  most,  and 
I'm  a-going  right  back  to  look  for  him." 

"  Eat  your  supper  first,  man,  and  don't  be  a  fool," 
said  Lem,  somewhat  staggered  at  Jeff's  concern 
over  his  desertion  of  Jack ;  but  the  miner  heeded  him 
not.  He  mounted  one  of  the  tired  horses  and  rode  all 
the  weary  way  back  to  the  place  they  had  camped 
at,  but  not  a  sign  did  he  see  of  the  boy.  On  the  way 
he  endured  the  whole  of  the  awful  storm,  which  he 
hardly  noticed.  In  his  anxiety  he  pressed  on,  ar- 
riving late  in  the  Mexican  village,  where  he  made 
inquiries,  but  received  such  purposely  conflicting 
answers  to  his  questions  about  the  way  the  boy  had 
gone  that  he  got  quite  confused,  and  in  the  end  had 
to  turn  back  and  retrace  his  steps.  He  stopped  at 
short  intervals  to  shout,  but  no  reply  came  out  of 
the  darkness,  and  at  last  he  got  back  to  the  wagon 


276  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

utterly  wearied  out,  and  as  unhappy  as  a  man  could 
be. 

Lem's  surly  voice  sounded  out  from  the  blankets 
asking,  "  Well,  I  suppose  3rou've  got  the  precious 
kid  all  right,  haven't  you  ? " 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  returned  Jeff,  savagely ;  "  and 
I'm  feared  as  he's  come  to  grief  somewhere,  for 
there  ain't  a  house  twixt  here  and  the  village  for 
him  to  shelter  in.  I'll  never  forgive  mysel'nor  you 
either  for  this  day's  work,  and  the  sooner  we  part 
company  the  better  I'm  pleased.  I  knew  you  were 
a  crankv  chap,  but  I  didn't  reckon  ve  were  as  mean 
as  this." 

Lem  growled  out  something  angrily  about  mak- 
ing such  a  fuss  over  a  bit  of  a  kid,  but  poor  Jeff's 
conscience  was  at  work,  and  he  blamed  himself  over 
and  over  again  for  Jack's  misfortune. 

"  It's  the  drink  that  has  done  it,"  he  murmured, 
"  and  I  swear  I'll  never  touch  another  drop  again  as 
long  as  I  live.  But  that  won't  bring  back  the  little 
lad,"  he  went  on  sadly  to  himself,  "  and  I'm  scared 
as  a  night  up  so  high  '11  kill  him,  with  nothing  to 
keep  him  warm,  for  it  gets  terrible  cold  towards 
daybreak." 

Jeff  could  not  sleep.  He  tossed  about,  listening 
to  Lem's  deep  breathing. 

"  I  promised  to  see  to  him,  and  I  might  have 
known  Lem  wasn't  to  be  trusted.  He  did  it  for 
spite,  I'm  pretty  sure,  and  nothin'  else,"  he  argued 
to  himself ;  and  he  was  right,  as  we  already  know. 

He  and  Lem  parted  company  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, and  certain  it  was,  from  the  day  Jack  was 
lost,  Jeff  was  a  changed  man.  He  kept  his  word, 
and  never  touched  a  drop  of  drink.  It  was  no  easy 
matter  to  break  off  a  long-indulged  habit,  but  when 
he  found  the  desire  for  it  growing  too  strong,  and 
felt  inclined  to  yield  to  the  temptation,  he  would 
think  of  little  Jack  sitting  by  the  camp-fire  singing 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  27T 

his  hymns,  and  as  the  bright  face  of  the  boy  rose 
before  him,  it  would  break  the  evil  spell  and  the 
longing  for  drink  would  pass  away.  He  stayed 
about  for  some  days  hoping  to  hear  something  of 
Jack,  but  he  was  obliged  at  last  to  believe  that  in 
all  human  probability  the  boy  had  died  of  exposure 
on  the  prairie. 

"  I'll  wait  till  I  know  the  truth,"  said  he,  "  but 
I'm  feared  as  his  mother'll  never  see  him  again,  for 
he's  dead." 


278  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  YIL 

JACK    IS    BESOTTED. 

BUT  Jack  was  not  dead.  When  he  returned  to 
consciousness  again,  he  was  surprised  to  find  him- 
self no  longer  on  the  prairie,  but  lying  on  sheep- 
skins spread  over  a  wooden  couch  and  covered  with 
a  blanket. 

He  was  in  a  rough  kind  of  tent,  and  through  the 
turned-back  flap  of  canvas  at  the  entrance,  he  could 
see  the  prairie.  He  could  remember  nothing  of 
what  had  happened,  and  tried  to  imagine  how  in 
the  world  he  had  got  into  such  a  place.  His  head 
still  ached  badly,  and,  putting  his  hand  up,  he  found 
his  forehead  was  bandaged.  He  felt  very  weak  and 
ill,  but  his  surroundings  were  so  strange  to  him,  he 
tried  to  sit  up  and  look  about  him.  The  effort  was 
too  much  for  him,  and  with  a  groan  of  pain  he  fell 
back  on  the  sheep-skins. 

At  the  sound  he  made,  a  man  appeared  at  the 
tent  door,  and  approached  the  couch.  He  was  a 
fine-looking  fellow,  evidently  a  Mexican,  from  his 
swarthy  complexion,  but  there  was  a  look  of  com- 
passion  in  his  dark  eyes  that  inspired  Jack  with 
confidence  and  made  him  feel  that  he  had  found  a 
friend  in  need. 

"  Where  am  I  ? "  he  asked,  feebly,  fearing  the  man 
would  not  understand  the  English  words,  and  his 
relief  was  great  when  the  Mexican  answered, — 

"  In  my  tent.  I  had  lost  some  sheep  last  night 
that  scattered  in  the  storm,  and  while  looking  for 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  279 

them,  my  dog  Senor  found  you  lying  on  the  prairie. 
You  were  hurt  here  " — pointing  to  his  forehead — 
"  and  I  thought  you  were  dead.  I  carried  you  here, 
and  you  were  nearly  gone,  but  I  got  you  round  at 
last.  You've  got  mountain  fever,  and  you  must 
keep  very  still  if  you  want  to  get  well.  Here,  drink 
this." 

As  he  spoke  he  handed  Jack  a  cup,  and  the  boy, 
thanking  him,  drank  the  liquid,  which  the  Mexican 
told  him  was  a  kind  of  tea  he  made  from  the  wild 
sage,  which  grew  all  over  the  prairie  and  was  a 
grand  remedy  for  agues  and  fevers. 

Jack  was  suffering  from  the  chill  he  received  in 
his  state  of  fatigue,  and  it  was  fortunate  for  him  he 
had  been  rescued  in  time  by  the  shepherd's  dog,  and 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  such  a  kind-hearted, 
sensible  man  as  Pedro  Gomez.  He  had  lived  all  his 
life  on  the  prairie  near  the  mountains,  and  knew 
how  to  treat  most  of  the  maladies  that  people  were 
subject  to  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

He  saw  Jack  Avas  excited,  so  wisely  said,  "  I 
shan't  listen  to  you  for  a  day  or  two,  but  when 
you're  better,  then  you  can  tell  me  where  you  come 
from.  It  was  lucky  I  found  you  in  time." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack.  "  I  believe  I  asked  God  to 
help  me,  and  I  expect  He  heard,  for  ye  see  He  sent 
you  to  me." 

The  Mexican  listened  gravely,  and  said, "  I  reckon 
you've  got  Him  to  thank  for  it  arter  all,  for  it  was 
strange  we  should  come  across  you,  and  not  another 
soul  near  you  for  miles." 

He  then  gave  Jack  injunctions  to  lie  very  still 
until  he  returned  again,  and  prepared  to  go  back  to 
his  sheep.  He  first  called  his  dog  and  put  him.  on 
guard. 

"There,"  he  said;  "if  you  want  me,  just  tell 
Senor.  He  knows  more  than  many  a  man,  and  '11 
come  for  me  at  once." 


280  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Jack  looked  gratefully  at  him,  and  said  wistfully, 
"  I  guess  ye  don't  bate  kids,  like  Lem  ? " 

"  Hate  'em  ?  "  repeated  Pedro.  "  No !  My  boss 
bas  two  little  'uns  at  bis  rancb,  and  I've  nursed  'em 
often.  Tbey  just  love  to  play  with  Seiior,  and  want 
me  to  tell  tbem  prairie  tales,  wben  I'm  tbere,  all 
day  long." 

Left  by  bimself  witb  Seiior,  Jack  prepared  to  make 
friends  witb  bim.  He  was  not  a  beautiful  animal, 
being  a  long,  tbin,  vagabond-looking  dog  ;  but 
faithfulness  was  stamped  in  bis  honest,  intelligent 
face,  and  Pedro  was  right  in  saying  he  knew  more 
than  many  a  human  being.  Jack  was  fond  of  ani- 
mals, and  made  the  first  advances  towards  bis 
guardian,  but  Seflor  was  not  disposed  to  be  friendly 
incautiously.  His  life  had  made  him  suspicious  of 
strangers,  and  he  hated  Itoys. 

Like  Jack,  he  had  a  rough  time  of  it  when  he 
went  to  the  Mexican  village  with  his  master,  as  dogs 
and  boys  invariably  attacked  him.  He,  therefore, 
avoided  them,  and  at  first  deemed  it  wiser  not  to 
notice  this  boy,  who  spoke  to  him  in  a  coaxing  voice. 
He  had  stretched  himself  down  on  the  ground  near 
the  tent  door,  and  prepared  to  spend  his  hours  of 
watching  with  one  eye  on  his  charge  and  the  other 
out  of  doors. 

Jack,  however,  was  restless  and  lonely,  and 
anxious  to  make  friends,  so  he  continued  calling  him 
in  a  caressing  way,  until  at  last  Seiior  thought  he 
might  as  well  investigate  him  closer.  Accordingly 
he  rose  up,  and  in  a  slow,  cautious  way  walked  up 
to  the  couch,  and  looked  up  in  the  boy's  face. 

Apparently  he  was  satisfied  with  his  scrutiny,  for 
when  Jack  ventured  to  pat  his  rough  head,  he  re- 
turned the  friendly  act  by  licking  his  hand.  As  Jack 
talked  and  caressed  him  further,  Senor  gradually 
threw  off  all  reserve,  and  when  Pedro  returned  he 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  281 

was  surprised  to  find  the  dog  curled  up  on  the  couch, 
as  friendly  as  possible  with  the  invalid. 

"  Well, "that's  good  !  I  see  Seflor  has  taken  to  YOU, 
boy,"  he  said,  approvingly.  "He  can't  abide 
strangers  as  a  rule,  so  I  take  it  as  a  sign  as  we'll  all 
get  on  right." 

Pedro  was  a  good  nurse,  and  looked  after  Jack  so 
well  that  in  a  few  days  he  was  able  to  get  up  for  a 
bit  and  sit  at  the  tent  door.  He  was  very  weak,  and 
Pedro  told  him  it  was  madness  to  think  of  trying  to 
continue  his  journey  for  some  time. 

When  Jack  was  strong  enough  to  tell  him  his 
story,  Pedro  proved  a  most  interested  listener. 

"  An'  where  are  your  folks  now  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Over  on  the  Cochetopa  Creek,"  answered  Jack. 

"  Why,  that's  way  over  t'other  side  o'  the  range. 
You'll  never  get  across  the  mountain  pass  alone,1* 
exclaimed  Pedro ;  "  it  ain't  safe  for  a  child  to 
wander  up  there  with  no  one  near  him.  There's 
bears  an'  mountain  lions,  let  alone  the  timber 
wolves !  You'd  be  eaten,  boy,  afore  you'd  crossed 
the  Divide." 

Jack  shuddered.  He  was  afraid  of  bears.  He 
had  never  seen  one,  but  they  had  always  been  a 
terror  to  him. 

"  I'm  terrible  afraid  o'  bears,"  he  said,  truthfully ; 
"but  p'raps  I'd  meet  some  one  going  over  as  would 
let  me  go  with  them." 

"  You  might,"  agreed  Pedro ;  "  but  winter's 
coming  on  fast,  an'  it'll  be  bad  getting  over  the 
range  after  November  comes.  You  bide  here  for  a 
few  weeks  with  me  until  my  boss  comes  over  again, 
an'  I  promise  you  as  he'll  help  you  along  a  bit.  He'll 
be  right  along  shortly  to  bring  me  flour  an'  grub  an' 
to  look  at  the  sheep." 

And  so  it  was  decided  that  Jack  should  stay  on 
with  the  Mexican  until  Mr.  Stuart  came  again, 
when  they  would  ask  him  his  opinion  as  to  the 


282  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

wisest  course  for  Jack  to  take,  to  get  safely  over  the 
mountains. 

Pedro  took  a  great  fancy  to  his  little  visitor,  and 
the  quiet  life  in  the  tent  was  very  pleasant  to  Jack 
after  his  rough  experiences.  He  was  astonished  at 
the  Mexican's  cleverness  ;  he  seemed  able  to  do  any- 
thing with  his  fingers,  and  had  a  wonderful  store  of 
knowledge  about  plants,  insects,  and  animals,  which 
lie  had  acquired  by  study  and  observation,  in  the 
long  monotonous  hours  he  spent  on  the  prairie. 

Jack's  clothes  which,  at  his  start  from  Longview, 
were  none  of  the  best,  had  suffered  a  good  deal  from 
the  wear  and  tear  of  traveling,  and  by  the  time  he 
arrived  at  Pedro's  tent,  they  were  nothing  but  rags, 
and  his  boots  were  all  to  pieces.  He  was  much  dis- 
tressed at  his  tattered  garments,  whereupon  Pedro 
said  he  would  soon  make  it  all  right  for  him,  and 
proceeded  to  hunt  out  some  buckskin  leather,  which 
he  had  tanned  himself.  It  was  quite  thin  and  soft, 
and  out  of  it  he  cut  a  suit  for  Jack,  and  sewed  it 
together.  When  the  clothes  were  finished,  Jack 
was  delighted  with  them.  They  were  so  comfort- 
able, and  the  leather  shirt  and  long  fringed  trousers 
made  him  look  like  a  little  cowboy. 

His  worn-out  boots  hurt  his  feet,  so  his  friend 
made  him  a  pair  of  moccasin  shoes,  cut  out  of  a 
single  piece  of  leather,  which  fitted  him  nicely. 

Pedro  was  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  tailor- 
ing, and  said,  "  There,  lad,  them  clothes  '11  never 
wear  out,  but  '11  last  until  you  outgrow  'em." 

The  herd  of  sheep  that  'Pedro  looked  after  num- 
bered over  a  thousand,  and  as  winter  approached  he 
began  driving  them  towards  a  place  on  the  prairie 
where  there  were  corrals,  or  yards,  to  put  them  in  at 
nights,  and  where  a  hut  had  been  erected  for  his  own 
use. 

As  long,  however,  as  the  weather  permitted,  he 
"lived  in  his  tent,  and  as  Jack  was  much  stronger,  he 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  283 

accompanied  the  sheep-herder  and  Seiior  to  help  with 
the  sheep  in  the  evenings  \vhenthey  had  to  be  driven 
in.  Although  they  never  saw  any  one,  Jack  was 
never  dull  or  lonely,  as  Pedro  was  excellent  company. 
He  showed  him  how  to  prepare  the  different  skins 
of  animals  they  found  near  their  camp,  and  when 
Jack  was  tired  of  work,  he  and  Sefior  would  go  off  to 
hunt  for  chipmunks  and  gophers.  Chipmunks  were 
like  small  squirrels,  and  gophers  were  pretty  striped 
little  animals  that  played  about  on  the  prairie. 

It  had  puzzled  Jack  very  much  to  find  a  lonely 
Mexican  sheep-herder  could  speak  English  so  well, 
until  he  learned  from  Pedro  that  he  had  lived  from 
the  time  he  was  a  boy  with  English  people.  He 
had  spent  many  months  every  year  with  his  young 
master,  hunting,  shooting,  or  minding  cattle  with 
him,  and  thus  had  learnt  to  speak  the  language 
fluently.  He  said  when  Mr.  Stuart  married  and 
settled  down  on  his  ranch,  he  wanted  him  (Pedro) 
to  live  in  a  shanty,  and  look  after  things  for  him, 
but  the  love  of  camp  life  was  too  strong  in  him,  and 
he  begged  his  master  to  give  him  a  situation  as  a 
sheep-herder.  Mr.  Stuart  had  done  as  he  wished, 
and  he  was  as  happy  and  contented  as  possible  in 
his  rough  old  tent. 


284  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

WHAT   JACK    LEARNED    FROM    PEDRO. 

SOME  weeks  passed,  and  still  Jack  stayed  on  with 
his  new  friend.  The  time  had  not  been  lost  for  the 
boy,  as  he  had  learnt  many  things  which  he  had  not 
known  before,  and  which  were  very  useful  to  him  in 
after-life.  He  was  quick  and  deft  with  his  fingers, 
and  Pedro  taught  him  in  a  few  days  how  to  cut  and 
plait  long  strips  of  leather  into  lariats  and  bridle- 
reins,  and  to  make  ornamental  belts. 

';I  wish  you'd  teach  me  to  throw  a  lariat  like 
the  cowboys,"  said  Jack  one  day. 

"  Come  and  try,  then,"  returned  Pedro,  taking 
down  a  long  leather  rope  that  was  coiled  round  the 
tent-pole  and  going  outside.  "  Now  watch  me.  I 
take  the  rope  up  in  loops,  leaving  the  noose  end  out. 
Then  swing  it  round  in  a  circle  over  your  head, 
quicker  and  quicker,  while  you  take  aim  and  try  and 
throw  it  over  the  beast's  head  like  that ; "  and  as  he 
spoke  Pedro  let  the  noose  fall  gently  over  Senor's 
neck,  who  was  running  past  at  some  distance  away. 

He  then  put  up  a  post,  and  showed  Jack  how  to 
drop  the  noose  over  it.  It  was  very  hard  at  first 
to  aim  straight,  but  Jack  had  a  quick  eye,  and  after 
two  or  three  days'  hard  practising,  he  made  a  very 
good  attempt  at  throwing  the  rope  in  the  right 
place.  Day  after  day  he  went  at  it,  until  one 
never-to-be-forgotten  morning  he  also  succeeded  in 
lariating  Seiior  as  he  trotted  by.  This  was  a  great 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  285 

achievement,  and  quite  repaid  Jack  for  the  trouble 
of  practising  so  hard  to  accomplish  it. 

One  place  that  pleased  Jack  very  much  was  a 
prairie-dog  village  close  by.  Many  an  hour  did  he 
spend  watching  the  fearless  little  prairie  dogs,  who 
came  out  of  their  holes  and  would  bark  defiantly  at 
him  like  so  many  cheeky  puppies,  until  the  tears 
ran  down  his  face  from  laughing  at  their  antics. 
Sometimes,  for  fun,  Jack  pretended  to  throw  stones 
at  them,  and  the  instant  he  raised  his  arm  they 
would  disappear  down  their  holes  as  if  by  magic, 
only  to  peep  out  again  in  a  minute  or  two,  to  see  if 
they  might  venture  forth  again. 

Jack  saw  a  great  many  rattlesnakes  when  he 
'wandered  about  with  Pedro  on  the  prairie.  He 
was  very  much  afraid  of  them,  and  no  wonder,  for 
their  poisonous  bite  is  often  fatal.  Pedro  was  so 
familiar  with  them  from  his  childhood  that  he  did 
not  mind  them  in  the  least,  and  killed  them  by  an 
extraordinary  native  trick.  He  would  fearlessly 
follow  a  retreating  snake,  seize  it  by  the  tail,  swing 
it  rapidly  round,  and  with  a  dexterous  twist  of  his 
wrist,  would  crack  it  like  a  whip,  and  dislocate  its 
spine.  Being  thus  rendered  helpless,  the  reptile 
was  easily  despatched.  As  a  rule  they  tried  to 
escape,  but  if  by  chance  one  showed  fight,  it  was 
harder  to  kill,  as  it  would  twist  itself  up  in  a  coil, 
shaking  its  rattles  noisily,  \vith  its  head  out  ready 
to  spring  and  strike. 

Jack  had  a  boy's  love  for  possessing  things,  and 
in  a  short  time,  with  Pedro's  help,  had  a  small  col- 
lection of  treasures  to  carry  away  with  him.  He 
found  plenty  of  rattles  on  the  prairie,  as  the  snakes 
cast  their  rattles  off  every  year,  and  Pedro  gave  him 
a  skin  of  a  horned  toad,  a  curious  creature  covered 
with  tiny  horns  all  over  its  body. 

One  day  Pedro  killed  a  strange-looking  animal 
called  a  skunk.  It  was  very  handsome,  like  a  large 


286  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

black-and-white  striped  cat  with  a  magnificent 
bushy  tail,  but  it  had  such  a  disagreeable  smell  it 
made  Jack  feel  ill. 

"  You  surely  can't  skin  that  nasty  thing  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Wait  and  see,"  returned  Pedro,  carrying  the 
dead  animal  towards  the  creek.  "  I'll  show  you 
how  the  Indians  skin  'em." 

lie  put  the  skunk  quite  under  the  water  and  kept 
it  there,  until  he  toolc  off  the  skin,  as  this  process 
destroyed  the  strong  odor  belonging  to  the  crea- 
ture. Jack  was  very  interested,  and  watched  him 
until  the  skin  was  hung  out  to  dry. 

Pedro  taught  Jack  to  know  some  of  the  principal 
grasses  that  grew  on  the  prairie.  There  was  the 
bunch  grass,  the  buffalo  grass,  and  the  funny  sickle- 
shaped  "  gamma  "  grass,  on  which  thousands  of  cat- 
tle fed,  and  amongst  others,  Pedro  pointed  out  a 
terrible  plant,  the  dread  of  many  a  ranchman. 
With  its  pretty  white  flowers  it  looked  harmless 
enough,  but  woe  to  the  poor  animals  who  ate  much 
of  the  plant,  for  it  contained  a  deadly  poison  which 
had  first  the  effect  of  driving  them  crazy,  and  ended 
by  killing  them.  It  was  called  "  Loco,"  which  in 
English  means  "  crazy,"  and  some  people  call  it  the 
"crazy-weed." 

A  great  number  of  cactus  bushes  grew  round  the 
tent ;  some  were  quite  big,  with  long  arms  covered 
with  prickles  stretching  out,  and  others  grew  close  to 
the  ground,  and  Jack  had  to  look  carefully  when  he 
walked,  or  he  would  have  got  badly  pricked. 

Pedro  was  a  grand  story-teller,  and  often  as  they 
sat  watching  the  sheep  or  working  in  the  tent  he 
would  tell  wonderful  tales.  When  they  heard  the 
dismal  howls  of  bands  of  coyotes  or  prairie  wolves, 
he  would  tell  Jack  what  cowardly  creatures  they 
really  were ;  how  they  were  afraid  to  attack  strong 
cattle,  but  would  persistently  follow  a  weak,  sick 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  287. 

animal  for  days,  dogging  its  footsteps  until  the  poor 
thing  fell  from  exhaustion.  Then  they  would 
pounce  on  it  and  tear  it  in  pieces. 

He  would  tell  him,  too,  about  the  time  when  he 
lived  on  the  Indian  frontier,  and  had  to  help  to  pro- 
tect the  settlers  from  the  bands  of  fierce  Apaches, 
Utes,  and  Navajo  Indians,  who  came  making  raids 
for  cattle  over  the  border,  often  setting  fire  to 
houses  and  killing  the  settlers.  lie  described  how 
the  Indians  had  massacred  thousands  of  buffaloes 
by  driving  them  into  deep  ravines  where  they  could 
not  escape,  and  then  killing  them,  not  so  much  to 
provide  themselves  with  food  as  to  prevent  their 
enemies  getting  them.  It  was  cruel  slaughter,  and 
the  result  has  been  that  the  buffaloes  are  almost  ex- 
tinct no\v,  where  years  ago  they  swarmed  in  vast 
herds  on  the  prairie. 

As  Jack  listened  to  Pedro's  tales  of  wonderful 
escapes  from  mountain  lions,  wolves,  and  bears,  he 
saw  himself  that  the  Mexican  was  right  when  he 
said  it  was  impossible  for  a  little  child  like  him  to 
attempt  to  cross  the  big  mountains  all  alone,  and  he 
wisely  made  up  his  mind  to  stay  contentedly  with 
Pedro  until  he  got  the  chance  of  going  on  further 
with  some  one  else.  He  would  have  been  quite 
happy  with  the  Mexican  and  his  dog,  except  for  the 
great  longing  to  see  his  parents,  Avhich  sometimes 
almost  impelled  him  to  resume  his  journey  at  all 
risks. 


288  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

JACK  ARRIVES  AT  SWIFT  CREEK  RANCH. 

JACK  had  been  two  months  with  Pedro  Gomez, 
and  the  weather  was  getting  much  colder.  Kovem- 
ber  had  come,  and  although  the  sun  still  shone 
brightly  and  warm  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  the 
nights  were  terribly  cold,  and  Jack  was  glad  enough 
to  have  the  extra  sheepskins  to  tuck  round  him 
which  Pedro  brought  out  for  his  use.  There  had 
been  one  fall  of  snow,  which  quickly  cleared  off  the 
prairie  again,  leaving  the  mountains  clothed  with 
white  above  timber-line.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to 
see  the  contrast  of  the  bright-colored  foliage  against 
the  snow,  for  in  the  autumn  the  leaves  of  the  oak- 
scrub  turn  a  brilliant  red,  and  those  of  the  quaking 
aspen  a  bright  yellow,  all  along  the  mountain  creeks, 
making  a  wonderful  mass  of  color. 

One  afternoon,  Pedro  called  Jack  out  to  look  at 
the  mountains.  The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  its 
rays  spread  along  the  edge  of  the  peaks,  making  it 
look  as  if  the  whole  outline  of  the  range  had  been 
marked  out  with  a  broad,  blood-red  ribbon. 

"  Look  at  that,  Jack  ! "  exclaimed  the  Mexican. 
"Ain't  that  a  grand  sight?  D'ye  know  what  the 
old  pioneers  called  them  mountains  ? " 

"  I've  heard,  but  I've  forgot  somehow.  It's  a 
grand  long  name  as  I  can't  remember,"  returned 
Jack. 

"  Well,  I  guess  ye'll  bear  it  in  mind  after  to-day, 
for  they  called  it  '  Sangre  de  ChristoJ  which  in  Eng- 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  289 

lish  means  '  Blood  of  Christ ;  '  and  folks  say  they 
gave  the  range  that  name  because  the  first  explorers 
saw  the  mountains  with  that  blood-red  streak  run- 
ning along  the  top." 

"  I  shan't  forget  it  now,  I'm  sure,"  said  Jack, 
gazing  admiringly  at  the  gorgeous  scene  before 
them.  "  Sangre  de  Christo"  "  .Blood  of  Christ"  he 
repeated,  slowly.  "  I  like  that  name  for  it." 

"  Aye,"  returned  Pedro,  "  the  old  Spanish  ex- 
plorers gave  nicer  names  to  places  than  the  new 
settlers  have  done  later.  Which  d'you  think  is 
prettiest,  names  like  Huerfano  (Orphan),  Buena 
Vista  (Good  View),  Rosita  (Little  Rose),  and  Rio 
Dolores  (River  of  Sorrow) ;  or  Smith's  Park,  Tay- 
lor's Creek,  Gibson's  Peak,  and  Georgetown,  and 
such-like  ?  Mr.  Stuart  was  talking  to  me  once 
about  it,  and  he  said  it  struck  him  as  his  own 
countrymen  were  mostly  like  them  mentioned  in  the 
Bible  as  called  their  lands  after  their  own  names." 

"  I  like  the  old  names  best,  for  it  seems  as  if  they 
had  some  meanin'  in  'em,"  said  Jack.  "  I  never 
saw  anythin'  like  them  mountains  at  Longview,  and 
I'm  glad  to  think  our  new  home  is  somewhere  near 


'em." 


They  stood  until  the  glorious  color  had  quite 
faded  out  of  the  sky,  and  then  turned  into  the  tent, 
sorry  to  see  the  last  of  it. 

The  next  morning  Jack  was  tidying  out  the  tent, 
when  he  saw  Pedro  and  Senor  hurrying  towards  him. 

"  Here's  the  boss  himself !  "  cried  Pedro,  in  a 
state  of  excitement.  "  He's  coming  across  the 
prairie  in  the  spring  wagon.  Let's  make  up  a  good 
fire,  as  he'll  be  terrible  cold  after  his  long  drive." 

Jack  helped  to  bring  in  logs,  and  they  soon  had  a 
roaring  fire  in  the  stove. 

"  Pedro,"  asked  the  boy,  anxiously,  "d'you  think 
he'll  take  me  back  as  far  as  his  ranch  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  he  will,"  returned  the  Mexican,  "  and 
19 


290  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

I'll  miss  you  sadly,  lad.  I  believe  I  couldn't  part 
with  you  if  I  didn't  know  as  you  were  longing  to 
see  your  father  and  mother/' 

"  I've  been  very  happy  along  with  you  and 
Senor,"  said  Jack,  "  but  I'm  bound  to  go  on  to  my 
own  folks." 

"  You're  right.  You  belong  to  'em  first,"  replied 
Pedro,  "  tho'  I'd  give  a  good  deal  to  keep  you.  But 
now  we  must  go  and  collect  the  sheep,  as  the  boss'll 
want  to  see  'em." 

They  ran  the  sheep,  with  Senor's  help,  into  the 
big  corral,  and  waited  there.  The  wagon  soon  rat- 
tled up  to  them,  and  Jack  stood  quietly  by,  while 
the  newcomer  warmly  greeted  the  Mexican. 

"  Well,  Pedro !  how  are  you  making  it  this  cold 
weather  ?  Hope  you  and  the  sheep  keep  fit." 

"Couldn't  be  better,"  returned  Pedro;  "and  how 
are  you  all  at  the  ranch  ?  " 

"  First-rate,  thanks.  If  it  hadn't  been  so  cold,  I'd 
have  brought  the  children  with  me  for  the  drive. 
But,  hello !  who  have  you  got  here  ? "  and  Mr. 
Stuart  looked  with  surprise  at  Jack's  quaint  little 
figure  dressed  in  his  leather  suit.  As  he  drove  up 
he  had  noticed  what  he  thought  was  a  young  Mexi- 
can by  Pedro  (as  Jack's  face  was  tanned  quite 
brown),  but  when  he  had  looked  again,  he  was 
struck  with  the  intelligent  look  on  the  boy's  face, 
and  began  to  ask  questions. 

In  answer  Pedro  said,  "  He's  a  little  English  boy 
who  was  left  behind  at  Las  Yegas  by  a  mining  out- 
fit he  was  traveling  with.  He  tried  to  follow  'em 
up,  but  got  lost  on  the  prairie  in  that  bad  thunder- 
storm we  had  about  a  couple  o'  months  back.  When 
Senor  and  I  found  him,  he  had  an  attack  o'  moun- 
tain fever,  but  I  brought  him  to  my  tent  and  nursed 
him  round.  He's  right  enough  now,  and  I  thought 
may  be,  when  you  hear  his  story,  you'd  help  him  on 
a  bit." 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  991 

"  What's  your  name,  my  boy  ?  "  asked  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  Jack  Wilson,  please,  sir,"  answered  the  boy, 
promptly. 

"  Well,  Jack,  you  must  tell  me  all  about  yourself 
when  I  come  back.  I'm  going  to  look  at  the  sheep 
with  Pedro  now,  and  I'll  have  a  talk  by  and  by." 

So  saying,  Mr.  Stuart  went  away  towards  the 
corral,  leaving  Jack  in  great  excitement.  He  liked 
the  look  of  this  line  young  Englishman,  who  smiled 
so  pleasantly  at  him,  and  he  felt  hopeful  he  w.oukl 
help  him.  While  the  men  inspected  the  sheep,  Jack 
made  himself  useful  by  carrying  all  the  small  things 
out  of  the  wagon  into  Pedro's  hut,  where  the  provi- 
sions were  stored.  He  had  to  leave  the  large  sacks 
of  flour,  as  they  were  too  heavy  for  him  to  lift  by 
himself. 

When  the  men  returned,  and  Mr.  Stuart  saw  how 
busy  Jack  had  been,  he  said,  "  Well  done,  my  boy ! 
I  like  to  see  a  lad  make  himself  of  use  of  his  own 
free  will.  It  shows  he  likes  to  work  without  being 
told.  And  now  I  want  to  know  how  you  came  to 
take  up  your  abode  with  my  sheep-herder." 

Encouraged  by  the  kind  interest  Mr.  Stuart  showed 
in  him,  Jack  told  his  story  in  a  simple  way,  from 
the  time  he  first  started  out  from  Longview,  to 
where  he  had  been  so  Opportunely  found  by  Pedro 
and  Seiior. 

Mr.  Stuart  was  greatly  surprised,  as  he  listened 
and  learned  how  far  the  boy  had  already  traveled. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  asked, 
u  that  you  started  out  alone  with  strangers  to  try 
and  reach  your  parents  living  at  a  place  nearly 
three  hundred  miles  away  ?  I'm  astonished  that 
you  have  got  as  far  as  this !  Indeed,  I  can  hardly 
believe  it,"  and  he  looked  searchingly  at  Jack. 

"  It's  the  truth,  sir,  all  the  same,"  said  the  boy 
quietly,  but  there  was  a  hurt  expression  on  his 


292  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

open  face,  which  convinced  the  Englishman,  more 
than  anything  else,  of  his  honesty. 

"  Well,"  he  said  kindly,  "  I  shall  trust  you,  any- 
ho\v.  At  first  it  seemed  impossible  to  me,  that  a 
little  lad  not  ten  years  old,  would  dare  to  go  such 
a  long,  perilous  journey  alone,  but  your  face  and 
straightforward  answers  have  satisfied  me,  and  I 
will  gladly  give  you  all  the  assistance  I  can.  I'll 
take  you  back  with  me  to  my  ranch,  but  I'm  afraid 
you  must  give  up  the  idea  of  crossing  the  mountains 
until  next  spring,  as  it  is  so  dangerous  at  this  time 
of  the  year,  very  few  people  care  to  attempt  it." 

Jack's  face  flushed  with  pleasure  as  he  thanked 
the  Englishman,  and  although  he  could  not  but  feel 
sorry  at  the  thought  of  saying  good-by  to  Pedro 
and  Senor,  yet  it  was  satisfactory  to  make  a  fresh 
start  towards  home,  after  the  long  delay. 

He  made  his  little  collection  of  curiosities  into  a 
small  parcel,  and  when  it  was  time  to  start,  it  was 
touching  to  see  the  parting  between  the  boy  and  his 
two  friends.  Over  and  over  again  Jack  thanked  the 
Mexican  for  his  kindness  to  him,  and  a  few  tears 
fell  on  Senor's  rough  head. 

"  We'll  remember  you  for  many  a  long  clay,"  said 
Pedro,  "  and  don't  you  forget  Senor  and  me." 

"  I'll  come  and  see  you  again  when  I'm  bigger," 
said  little  Jack,  half  crying,  "good-by,  Pedro, 
good-by,  Senor,"  and  the  wagon  rolled  slowly 
away. 

"  Adios !  "  cried  poor  Pedro  huskily,  and  turned 
away  with  a  tear  in  his  eye.  He  had  got  so  fond  of 
his  bright  little  visitor,  and,  for  the  first  time  he 
felt  really  lonely  in  his  tent,  as  he  sat  down  to  his 
supper  the  evening  after  Jack's  departure.  Eor 
some  days  he  kept  looking  about  at  times,  half  ex- 
pecting to  see  the  well-known  little  figure  playing 
about.  Seiior,  too,  seemed  very  disconsolate,  and 
wandered  about  uneasily,  coining  from  time  to  time 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  293 

to  look  up  in  Pedro's  face  in  an  inquiring  way,  as 
if  to  ask,  "  Where  has  he  gone  to  s  I  can't  find 
him?" 

It  was  a  long  drive  to  the  ranch,  but  Mr.  Stuart 
was  so  kind  in  talking  to  Jack,  that  he  enjoyed 
himself  very  much  at  first.  It  was  very  nice  driv- 
ing so  fast  over  the  prairie,  and  his  new  friend 
let  him  take  the  reins  for  a  short  time,  which  pleased 
him  exceedingly. 

Once  he  saw  a  flock  of  big  birds  a  short  distance 
off,  feasting  on  the  carcass  of  a  dead  beast.  He  got 
very  excited,  and  exclaimed,  "  Look  there,  sir ! 
Ain't  them  eagles  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  Jack,"  replied  Mr.  Stuart,  "  those  are 
not  eagles.  They  are  buzzards,  or  prairie  scavengers, 
and  are  more  like  vultures  than  eagles.  They  are 
nasty  creatures,  but  so  useful  in  carrying  away  and 
devouring  all  carrion,  that  the  State  authorities  won't 
allow  them  to  be  shot." 

The  birds  rose  slowly  in  a  great  cloud  as  the 
wagon  approached.  There  were  about  thirty  of 
them,  and  they  had  picked  nearly  every  particle  of 
flesh  off  the  animal's  bones,  which  already  looked 
white. 

"  The  buzzards  do  their  work  quickly,"  remarked 
Mr.  Stuart ;  "  that  beast  had  not  long  died  when  I 
passed  it  this  morning." 

But  after  a  while  Jack  got  very  tired  and  drowsy, 
and  by  the  time  they  reached  the  door  of  the  ranch- 
house,  he  was  lying  fast  asleep  at  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon,  rolled  up  in  rugs. 

As  the  horses  stopped  at  the  door,  Mrs.  Stuart 
came  out  to  welcome  her  husband,  and  the  bright 
blaze  of  light  that  streamed  from  the  house  looked 
pleasant  in  truth  to  the  hungry  and  cold  man  after 
his  long  drive. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  back  safely,"  said  his  wife ; 
u  how  did  you  find  Pedro  and  the  sheep  \  " 


294  A.  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  111  grand  form,"  he  answered,  "  and  look  here, 
in  the  wagon  !  I've  got  a  surprise  for  you  and  the 
children." 

Mrs.  Stuart  looked  at  the  bundle  curled  up  and 
asked,  "  AVhat  have  you  got  there,  Tom  2 " 

"  A  little  English  boy,  who'll  take  your  heart  by 
storm  when  you  hear  his  story.  He's  quite  tired 
out,  so  I'll  just  carry  him  quietly  in  and  not  disturb 
him." 

As  he  spoke  he  lifted  the  sleeping  boy  in  his  arms, 
and  carrying  him  into  a  nice  warm  room,  laid  him 
on  a  sofa  near  a  stove,  where  a  fire  was  crackling 
merrily.  Mrs.  Stuart  brought  a  soft  blanket,  and 
covered  him  gently,  and  as  he  never  stirred,  they 
wisely  decided  to  leave  him  to  finish  out  his  sleep. 

The  tired  horses  were  looked  after  by  one  of  the 
ranch  hands,  and  Mr.  Stuart  sat  down  to  his 
supper.  While  he  was  eating  it,  he  told  his  wife 
Jack's  story.  It  at  once  roused  her  sympathy,  and 
she  said,  "  Brave  little  fellow  !  What  miles  he  has 
come  to  be  sure !  We  must  do  all  we  can  to  help 
him  on  to  his  people." 

"  Yes !  But  I  don't  see  any  chance  of  his  cross- 
ing the  mountains  until  next  spring,"  returned  Mr. 
Stuart ;  "  It  is  very  late  now,  and  no  one  is  likely 
to  come  past  here  who  would  go  over  the  Divide  at 
this  time." 

"  That's  true,"  agreed  Mrs.  Stuart,  "  so  we  must 
do  our  best  to  make  him  happy,  and  keep  him  here 
during  the  winter  months." 

"  I  only  hope  he'll  find  his  mother  alive  if  he  does 
get  to  their  ranch,"  remarked  the  Englishman  dubi- 
ously. "  From  what  he  told  me  she  must  have  been 
very  ill  when  she  left  Longview,  and  I  should  be 
afraid  the  shock  of  his  supposed  death  might  have 
killed  her." 

"  Oh !  Tom.  How  dreadful ! "  exclaimed  his  wife, 
quite  distressed.  "  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  such,  a 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  295 

sad  thing.  I  am  sure  the  little  fellow's  heart  would 
break  with  grief." 

"  Well !  We  will  sincerely  hope  for  the  best, 
dear,"  said  her  husband,  "and  trust  he  will  find 
her  strong  and  well.  She  ought  to  be  proud  of  her 
son,  for  it's  a  plucky  thing  for  such  a  child  to  at- 
tempt a  journey  like  this." 

"  Come  and  look  at  him,"  said  the  lady,  rising  and 
leading  the  way  into  the  other  room,  while  her  hus- 
band followed  her. 

"  Poor  little  Jack,"  she  said  softly,  "  and  poor 
Mother  !  How  thankful  she  will  be  to  see  him 
again,  after  such  a  long  separation.  Fancy,  Tom, 
if  it  had  been  our  own  little  laddie !  " 

Her  heart  went  out  to  the  sleeping  boy,  and  bend- 
ing down  she  kissed  him  lightly  on  the  forehead. 
Jack  stirred  uneasily  in  his  sleep  and  muttered 
"  Mother." 

The  word  brought  tears  to  Mrs.  Stuart's  eyes  as 
she  turned  again  to  her  husband  saying,  "  Do  you 
hear  that,  Tom  ?  His  thoughts  are  with  her  by  day, 
and  he  dreams  of  her  at  night.  '  It  is  most  touching." 

"  He  is  certainly  a  devoted  little  chap  to  his 
mother,"  said  Mr.  Stuart.  "  I  wonder  what  the 
children  will  think  of  him  ?  " 

"  They  will  be  delighted  to  have  a  playfellow,  and 
I  expect  they  will  never  tire  of  listening  to  his  ad- 
ventures. We  must  leave  him  now  till  to-morrow," 
and  with  another  tuck  in  of  the  blanket  round  the 
boy,  they  left  him  still  undisturbed  for  the  night. 


296  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  X. 

JACK'S  VISIT  AT  SWIFT  CREEK  KANCH. 

THE  next  morning  Jack  felt  some  one  shaking 
him  gently,  and  murmured  drowsily,  "  I'm  so  sleepy, 
Pedro.  It  can't  be  time  to  get  up  yet,"  and  then 
he  opened  his  eyes  to  find  Mr.  Stuart  standing  by 
the  sofa. 

Jack  woke  up  thoroughly  at  the  sight  of  him,  and 
remembering  where  he  must  be,  jumped  up,  exclaim- 
ing, "Am. I  very  late,  sir?" 

"  No,  my  boy  ;  but  we  have  all  finished  breakfast, 
and  as  I  felt  sure  you  must  be  ravenous  after  your 
long  fast,  I  thought  it  wiser  to  wake  you  up. 
You'll  like  to  have  a  wash  and  a  brush,  and  then 
come  into  the  kitchen." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Jack,  following  him,  and 
after  a  good  wash  in  a  big  basin  of  clear  creek  water, 
he  felt  quite  refreshed  and  terribly  hungry. 

"  There's  the  kitchen,"  said  Mr.  Stuart,  pointing 
to  a  door  ;  "  find  your  way  in  there  and  they'll  give 
you  your  breakfast.  I  must  go  to  the  corral." 

Jack  walked  to  the  house  and  knocked  shyly  at 
the  door  before  entering.  Mrs.  Stuart  greeted  him 
in  a  very  kindly  way. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,  Jack,"  she  said  ;  "  I  hope  you 
are  quite  rested.  I  saw  you  last  night,  but  you  were 
so  tired  and  fast  asleep,  we  decided  not  to  wake  you 
up.  We  are  very  glad  to  see  you  here,  and  when 
you  have  had  your  breakfast,  cyou  must  make  friends 
with  my  little  boy  and  girl.  Look  after  him  well, 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  297 

Martha,"  she  said  as  she  turned  to  leave  the  room, 
"  and  give  him  plenty  to  eat." 

"  I'll  see  to  him,  marm,"  said  the  servant,  who 
was  a  rough  girl,  but  good-nature  itself.  She  pro- 
ceeded to  heap  his  plate  with  food,  and  poured  trim, 
out  a  cup  of  nice  hot  coffee,  which  smelt  delicious 
to  the  hungry  boy.  She  was  very  proud  of  her  hot 
buckwheat  cakes,  and  Jack  did  ample  justice  to 
them,  smothered  as  they  were  in  butter  and  syrup. 

When  he  had  finished,  he  pleased  Martha  very 
much  by  helping  her  to  wash  up  the  breakfast  things, 
and  she  was  surprised  and  delighted  to  find  how 
careful  he  was  in  drying  and  putting  by  the  cups 
and  saucers  tidily  in  the  cupboards. 

He  carried  her  in  some  buckets  of  water  from  tne 
creek,  and  cleaned  the  knives. 

"  Is  there  anything  else  for  me  to  do  ? "  he  asked 
presently. 

u  Can  you  work  a  bucksaw  ?  "  she  said  dubiously. 

"Yes!  I  can,"  returned  Jack.  "I  cut  all  my 
uncle's  wood  at  Longview  with  one." 

"  Well !  I'd  be  glad  enough  for  a  few  logs,"  she  said, 
"  for  the  boys  are  so  busy  this  morning,  they've  quite 
forgot  it's  baking  day,  and  I  want  plenty  o'  wood." 

"'  I'll  cut  it,"  cried  Jack,  delighted  to  be  of  use, 
and  hastened  off  to  the  wood  pile.  Here  he  found 
the  bucksaw,  and  cut  off  a  number  of  short  lengths 
of  wood.  He  was  proceeding  to  split  them  with  an 
ax,  when  he  found  himself  being  surveyed  by  a 
little  boy  and  girl  who  were  standing  in  front  of 
him  hand-in-hand.  The  boy  was  about  six,  and  the 
girl  a  year  younger,  and  they  gazed  at  Jack  with 
admiring  eyes. 

"  Are  you  Jack  ?  "  asked  the  boy  shyly. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  answered  Jack,  smiling  at  him. 

"Well!  I'm  Teddy  Stuart,"  answered  the  new 
arrival,  evidently  anxious  to  converse,  "  and  this  is 
Rita.  She's  my  sister.  Have  you  a  sister  ? " 


298        A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

"  N"o  !  I  haven't,"  returned  Jack,  "  but  I've  got  a 
mother,  though,"  he  added,  not  to  be  outdone. 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Teddy  approvingly,  "  and 
you've  come  hundreds  of  miles  to  find  her.  I'd  go 
a  million  to  see  my  mother,  if  she  went  away." 

uXo!  You  wouldn't,  Teddy,"  broke  in  Rita, 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  "  cos  you're  too  little. 
You're  ever  so  much  littler  than  Jack.  Jack  !  "  she 
went  on,  with  a  funny  grave  look  in  her  face,  "my 
Daddy  says  you're  a  little  hero,  so  I  want  to  shake 
hands  with  you." 

She  held  out  a  small  hand,  and  shook  Jack's  brown 
paw  very  solemnly,  as  if  it  was  an  important  cere- 
mony. Teddy,  not  to  be  behindhand,  shook  hands 
also. 

"  I  like  heroes,"  Eita  went  on.  "  Daddy  tells  me 
stories  about  them  doing  such  brave  things  in  bat- 
tles. What  grand  things  have  you  done,  Jack?" 

Jack  looked  puzzled  at  this  question,  but  Teddy 
helped  him  by  asking  in  an  awe-stricken  voice,  "Did 
you  kill  anybody,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  returned  our  little  friend  ;  "  I  never 
hurt  nobody  but  those  Mexican  boys  as  set  on  me 
at  Las  Yegas.  I  tried  to  hurt  'em  all  I  could,"  he 
said  honestly,  "  but  they  were  too  many  of  'em  and 
they  whipped  me." 

"I  wish  I'd  been  there,"  cried  Teddy  valiantly. 
".I'd  have  helped  you,  Jack,  and  p'raps  we'd  have 
beaten  them  between  us." 

"  I'm  afeared  they'd  have  had  the  best  o'  it  any- 
how," returned  Jack,  shaking  his  head. 

Rita  listened  to  this  conversation  with  a  frightened 
look  in  her  brown  eyes,  but  she  felt  a  greater  re- 
spect than  heretofore  for  Teddy  after  his  brave 
speech.  Mrs.  Stuart  joined  them  at  this  moment, 
and  seemed  very  pleased  to  see  the  work  Jack  had 
got  through  since  breakfast. 

"  You  are  a  useful  boy,"  she  remarked  pleasantly ; 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

you've  wasted  no  time  this  morning.  Now,  chil- 
dren, I  see  you  have  already  made  friends  with 
Jack.  Help  him  to  carry  tliis  firewood  into  the 
kitchen,  and  then  take  him  about  and  show  him  the 
animals." 

Delighted  to  be  useful,  Teddy  and  Eita  helped 
Jack  to  carry  in  the  logs,  and  soon  the  big  wood- 
box  behind  the  stove  was  quite  full. 

Then  they  took  him  off  to  a  stable,  where  they 
showed  him  their  two  little  ponies  which  their 
father  had  brought  them  from  New  York.  Jack 
had  never  seen  such  tiny  creatures  before.  They 
were  real  Shetlands,  and  their  shaggy  manes  and 
long  flowing  tails  delighted  the  western  boy,  who 
lingered  near  them  as  if  quite  -fascinated.  He 
utterly  failed  in  his  attempt  to  decide  which  he 
liked  best,  Teddy's  black  pony  "Raven,"  or  Rita's 
white  one  called  "  Snowball,"  for  if  the  latter  was 
the  prettiest,  "  Raven,"  went  i\\Q  fastest  of  the  two. 
They  were  dear  little  ponies  and  so  quiet,  they 
followed  the  children  about  like  a  couple  of  big  dogs 
when  they  loosed  them. 

They  came  in  their  wanderings  to  the  big  corral 
or  yard,  where  a  great  excitement  was  going  on. 
Some  cowboys  were  breaking  in  a  very  wild  colt, 
and  it  was  giving  them  no  end  of  trouble.  Mr. 
Stuart  was  present,  and  when  he  saw  the  children 
he  put  them  into  a  safe  place  to  watch  the  proceed- 
ings. Jack  was  very  excited,  as  he  had  never  seen 
a  really  wild  broncho  broken  in  before,  and  was 
most  anxious  to  see  it  done. 

It  was  so  unmanageable,  a  cowboy  had  at  last  to 
lasso  it  with  a  lariat  and  throw  it  down.  While 
two  or  three  men  kept  it  prostrate,  the  others 
quickly  put  on  a  saddle  and  bridle  and  strapped  the 
"  cinches  "  or  girths  up  tight.  The  cowboy  who  was 
to  ride  the  colt  then  gave  a  signal.  The  men  let 
the  animal  struggle  to  its  feet,,  and  before  it  was 


300  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

aware,  the  youth  with  a  quick  bound  was  seated  in 
the  saddle. 

Then  began  a  terrible  fight  between  the  man  and 
the  horse.  The  latter  tried  to  get  its  head  down 
between  it  fore-legs,  arching  up  its  back  and  buck- 
ing wildly  about,  trying  to  unseat  its  rider,  who, 
however,  sat  firm  as  a  rock,  holding  the  reins  tight. 
After  the  horse  had  plunged  and  reared  for  some 
time,  the  bars  of  the  corral  were  let  down,  and  the 
cowboy  worked  the  refractory  steed  towards  this 
opening  and  out  on  the  prairie.  Here  the  animal 
made  a  fresh  fight  for  victory,  and,  as  if  inspired  to 
try  another  method  to  get  free  of  its  unwelcome 
burden,  it  suddenly  darted  away  full  gallop  across 
the  plain.  They  thundered  along  for  miles,  the 
rider  quite  powerless  to  check  the  runaway,  nor  did 
he  wish  to.  He  let  the  horse  go,  and  at  last  it  be- 
gan to  weary,  and,  of  its  own  accord,  lessened  the 
speed.  Slower  and  slower  it  Avent,  until  it  would 
have  stopped  altogether  if  the  cowboy  had  permitted 
it.  But  this  was  his  opportunity  to  show  he  was 
master,  and  accordingly  he  kept  the  colt  going  on, 
and  when  at  last  he  turned  its  head  towards  home, 
and  trotted  it  back  to  the  corral,  its  sweat-stained 
coat,  and  drooping  tail,  showed  that  the  victory 
was  won  and  the  wild  spirit  subdued.  As  it  carried 
the  cowboy  quietly  enough  up  to  the  waiting  group 
of  spectators,  they  knew  that  the  worst  was  over, 
and  the  colt,  after  such  a  struggle,  would  never 
give  the  same  trouble  again. 

Jack  was  very  happy  at  the  ranch,  as  every  one 
took  an  interest  in  such  a  little  traveler  and*  was 
good  to  him.  Mr.  Stuart  made  him  wild  with 
pleasure,  as  he  said  he  would  like  to  do  Steve  Byrne 
a  good  turn  for  his  kindness  to  the  forlorn  boy,  and 
he  intended  to  write  to  him  at  Long-view,  and  offer  to 
make  him  one  of  his  cowboys.  Jack  knew  Steve 
would  like  nothing  better,  and  it  pleased  him  to 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  301 

think  that  his  good-natured  cousin  would  benefit 
through  him. 

Jack  had  been  only  three  days  with  the  Stuarts, 
when  one  evening  a  strange-looking  vehicle,  called 
a  "  buckboard,"  drawn  by  an  old  white  mule,  ap- 
proached the  ranch,  and  a  tall,  wiry  old  man  jumped 
out  and  knocked  at  the  door.  He  held  himself  very 
erect,  and  although  his  hair  was  gray,  he  looked 
many  years  younger  than  he  really  was.  His  ap- 
pearance was  hailed  with  shouts  of  delight,  for  he 
was  well  known  and  a  favorite  with  all. 

"  Come  in,  man  !  "  cried  Mr.  Stuart,  greeting  him 
like  an  old  friend  ;  "  no  one  could  be  more  welcome 
than  yourself.  I've  not  seen  you  for  months." 

"  I've  been  up  in  Nebraska  till  lately,"  returned 
the  man.  "  I  stayed  there  a  bit  too  long,  as  I  ought 
to  be  in  the  Gunnison  by  now.  Anyhow,  I  couldn't 
cross  the  Eange  without  running  in  to  have  a  look 
at  you  all." 

"That's  right,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Stuart.  "You'll 
stay  here  the  night,  of  course  ?  Get  your  mule  to 
his  alfafa,  and  come  on  in  to  supper." 

The  man  went  off  to  the  stables,  and  Jack  felt  in 
a  great  flutter  of  excitement,  wondering  if  Mr. 
Stuart  meant  to  ask  the  stranger  to  let  him  accom- 
pany him.  A  cowboy  told  him  the  man's  name,  and 
in  Jack's  eyes  the  newcomer  was  to  be  looked  upon 
with  respectful  awe,  for  he  was  one  of  the  most 
famous  hunters  in  the  "West.  He  had  long  since 
earned  the  sobriquet  among  other  hunters  of"  Cham- 
pion Joe,"  from  the  long  list  of  triumphs  he  had 
achieved  in  the  destruction  of  wild  animals. 

Numberless  mountain  lions,  bears,  wolves,  and 
other  wild  creatures  had  fallen  victims  to  his  unerr- 
ing aim,  and  many  -a  fierce  fight  for  life  had  he  had 
with  dangerous  foes.  The  hunter's  fame  had 
reached  even  the  lonely  village  of  Longview,  and 
his  name  was  quite  familiar  to  Jack. 


302  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK.      . 

When  Joe  came  in  again,  Mr.  Stuart  at  once 
opened  up  the  subject,  told  Jack's  story  briefly,  and 
asked  him  to  allo\v  the  little  lad  to  be  his  com- 
panion. 

"  The  boy  can't  go  alone,  Joe,"  he  said,  "  and  I'd 
sooner  trust  him  to  you  than  any  one.  I  was  going 
to  keep  him  here  this  winter,  but  as  this  opportun- 
ity has  occurred,  I  think  it  is  pity  to  miss  it,  if  you'll 
take  him  along.  His  people  are  somewhere  on  the 
Cochetopa  Creek,  and  that  can't  be  so  ver}T  far  the 
other  side  of  the  Divide." 

"  I'll  take  him  for  you,"  said  the  hunter.  "  "Where 
is  he?" 

"  Here,  Jack,  come  along,"  called  Mr.  Stuart.  "  I 
can  tell  you,  you're  in  luck  to  have  fallen  in  with 
such  a  traveling  companion.  Here's  the  safest  man 
to  cross  the  mountains  with,  and  he  is  going  to  take 
you  with  him." 

Jack  came  forward,  and  looked  in  the  grizzled, 
tough  old  face  with  something  akin  to  awe.  The 
bright,  keen  eyes  looked  searchingly  at  him  in  return, 
as  if  their  owner  would  read  him  through,  and  then 
the  veteran  held  out  his  hand,  saying  in  a  deep  mel- 
low  voice  that  sounded  pleasantly  in  Jack's  ears, 
"  Well,  young  un  !  So  you  and  me's  to  be  mates  for 
a  spell,  eh?  And  I'm  to  keep  the  track  clear  of 
bears  for  you.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  I'm  awfully  skeared  of  bears,"  returned  Jack, 
truthfully,  "  but  I  don't  believe  I'd  be  skeared  of  any- 
thing much  if  I  were  along  with  you  ; "  and  he 
looked  confidently  at  the  stalwart  figure  of  the 
hunter. 

"  There's  a  genuine  compliment  for  you,  Joe,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Stuart,  laughing.  "  You  ought  to  ap- 
preciate that." 

"  Aye  1  so  I  do,"  returned  "  Champion  Joe,"  well 
pleased  with  the  boy's  unfeigned  admiration.  "  And 
now,  kid,  can  you  tell  me  whereabouts  on  the 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  303 

Cochetopa  Creek  your  folks  have  located  them- 
selves ? " 

Jack  shook  his  head.  He  had  come  over  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  on  that  one  word  Cochetopa^ 
and  now,  when  only  about  sixty  miles  from  the 
nearest  point  of  the  creek,  he  had  not  the  remotest 
idea  if  his  parents  lived  near  any  town  or  village. 
He  knew  nothing  beyond  the  name  of  the  creek,  and 
said  so. 

"That's  a  bit  awkward,"  said  "Champion  Joe," 
"  for  that  'ere  creek  runs  down  from  the  Range  for 
about  fifty  miles  afore  it  joins  the  river ;  so  I  guess 
it'll  be  a  trifle  hard  to  find  your  folks." 

"  My  dad  does  freighting  where  he  is,"  ventured 
Jack. 

"That's  good,"  returned  Joe,  hopefully,  "for 
there's  more  chance  o'  hearin'  summat  o'  him  as  we 
get  over  the  Range  in  some  o'  the  villages  we'll  pass 
through." 

"  I  think  you'd  better  run  off  to  bed,  Jack,"  said 
Mrs.  Stuart,  "  as  you  will  have  to  be  up  early  to-mor- 
row morning." 

"  Yes,"  joined  in  the  hunter, "  get  all  the  sleep  you 
can.  I  start  first  thing  in  the  mornin',  as  we  ain't 
got  no  time  to  fool  asvay.  For  all  the  sky's  so 
bright,  I'm  mighty  sure  there's  a  snowstorm  not  far 
off,  and  I  ain't  one  as  enjoys  a  blizzard  on  the 
Range." 

Jack  felt  too  restless  to  sleep  much,  and  at  last, 
when  he  dozed  off,  he  dreamt  he  was  being  pursued 
by  a  bear,  and  it  was  just  catching  him  when 
"Champion  Joe"  came  to  his  rescue,  and  carried 
him  away,  while  the  bear  vanished  at  the  sight  of 
the  hunter. 


304:  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

JACK    CROSSES   THE   RANGE   WITH  "  CHAMPION"  JOE." 

THE  next  morning  there  was  a  small  crowd  to  see 
the  two  travelers  off,  and  every  one  seemed  sorry 
to  say  good-by  to  Jack.  The  children  gave  him 
little  keepsakes,  and  made  him  promise  to  come  and 
see  them  again. 

"  Good-by,  Jack,"  said  Mrs.  Stuart,  kindly.  "  I 
hope  you  will  get  safely  to  your  journey's  end,  and 
find  your  father  and  mother  well.  We  hope  we 
shall  hear  good  news  of  you  later  on,  and  remem- 
ber, we  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you  here.  Xext 
time  you  must  pay  us  a  longer  visit." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  ma'am,  for  being  so  good 
to  me,"  said  Jack,  who  was  too  overcome  to  say 
much.  The  Stuarts  had  indeed  treated  the  little 
wanderer  kindly.  That  morning  he  had  begged  his 
hostess  to  take  some  of  his  pocket  money  (which 
Pedro  had  already  refused),  but  she  declined  to 
accept  it. 

"  My  dear  child ! "  she  exclaimed,  quite  horrified 
at  the  idea,  "how  could  you  suppose  we  would 
dream  of  taking  any  money  from  you  ? "  And  when 
he  said  good-by  to  her  husband,  the  good-natured 
Englishman  slipped  a  twenty-dollar  bill  into  his 
hand,  saying,  "  There,  Jack,  my  boy !  you're  an 
honest  lad,  I  feel  sure,  and  I'd  like  to  give  you  this 
little  nest-egg  to  help  you  on." 

No  wonder  Jack  was  almost  speechless,  but  his 
new,  kind  friends  understood  and  appreciated  his 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  305 

silent  gratitude  far  more  than  if  he  had  poured  forth 
volumes  of  thanks. 

Mrs.  Stuart  had  given  him  a  warm  blanket  and 
a  woolen  helmet  for  his  head,  and  Jack  found  the 
comfort  of  them  very  soon,  as,  though  the  morning 
was  bright  and  clear  when  they  started,  it  got  in- 
tensely colder  as  they  got  higher  up  the  mountains. 
The  road  was  very  steep  and  rocky,  and  covered 
with  small  boulders,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  go 
faster  than  at  a  walk.  They  quickly  left  all  ranches 
and  signs  of  civilization  behind,  and  came  into  a 
wonderfully  wild  region.  Part  of  their  way  lay 
through  a  dense  forest  of  pines,  where  some  of  the 
trees  had  been  cut  down,  and  dragged  on  one  side 
to  make  a  rough  road  for  travelers.  It  was  very 
lonely,  and  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  except  the  noise 
of  the  wheels  and  the  mule's  feet  moving  over  the 
rocks. 

Jack  looked  once  or  twice  at  fallen  trunks  of  trees, 
half  fearing  that  a  bear  might  be  concealed  behind 
them,  but  Joe  assured  him  there  was  little  chance 
of  their  seeing  one  at  that  time. 

"  Most  o'  'em  '11  be  hybernating — going  to  sleep 
in  their  dens  for  the  winter,"  he  said ;  "  and  if  we 
did  meet  one,  he'd  be  more  likely  to  run  away  than 
to  face  us." 

"  Is  that  so  ? "  asked  Jack  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  hunter,  "  a  bear'll  avoid  a  man 
as  a  rule,  unless  it's  wounded  or  it's  a  she-bear  with 
cubs.  Those  '11  fight  sure  enough,  and  dangerous 
things  they  are  to  tackle.  We'll  camp  to-night  at 
a  log  shanty  near  the  top  o'  timber-line,  where  a 
mate  of  mine  nearly  lost  his  life.  I'll  tell  you  the 
story  after  supper." 

"  I'd  like  that,"  cried  Jack,  pleased  at  the  promise 
of  an  adventure  story. 

Before  long,  they  had  to  get  out  of  the  buckboard 
and  walk  to  help  the  mule,  which  found  it  hard 

20- 


306  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

enough  to  drag  up  any  weight  at  all.  It  was  very 
tiring  for  all,  and  none  were  sorry  when  they  reached 
the  lonely  little  hut  where  they  were  to  stay  for  the 
night.  "  Captain,"  the  mule,  was  seen  to  first. 
He  was  put  into  a  tiny  corral  or  yard  close  by,  and 
given  plenty  of  "  baled"  or  compressed  hay,  which 
is  always  carried  by  people  in  wagons  traveling  long 
distances,  where  fodder  is  hard  to  procure.  "  Cap- 
tain "  at  once  set  to  work  to  enjoy  his  well-earned 
meal  and  rest,  while  Joe  and  Jack  lit  a  fire  and 
cooked  their  supper,  which  they  also  relished. 

After  they  had  finished,  Champion  Joe  got  out 
his  pipe  and  started  it ;  then,  seating  himself  on  a 
clump  of  wood  he  had  rolled  into  the  hut,  he  began 
his  story. 

"  This  mate  of  mine  who  got  into  this  trouble 
with  a  bear  was  a  rash  young  fellow  who  didn't 
know  what  danger  meant,  and  often  laughed  and 
said  he'd  like  to  meet  a  bear  as  could  scare  him. 
About  four  years  ago  he  was  mining  up  here,  and 
living  in  this  very  shanty.  He  was  drilling  in  the 
rock  for  ore,  and  had  a  fair-sized  prospect-hole, 
when  one  day  he  was  comin'  back  here  for  his  grub, 
and  came  face  to  face  with  a  bear  as  had  two  cubs 
with  her.  Of  course  he  ought  to  have  run  back  to 
his  prospect-hole,  where  he'd  have  been  safe  enough 
till  she'd  cleared  off  away.  But,  no !  he  was  that 
reckless,  he  went  straight  for  her  and  attacked  her 
with  his  pickax,  which  was  the  only  weapon  he  had. 
He'd  no  chance,  however,  against  her,  and  many  a 
time  has  he  told  me  the  terrible  feeling  he  had  when 
he  struck  out  at  her  with  all  his  might  and  jest 
missed  her.  She  sent  the  pickax  flying  out  of  his 
hands  the  next  moment,  leaving  him  quite  at  her 
mercy.  She  caught  him,  and  hugged  and  mangled 
him  terribly.  He'd  jest  sense  enough  left  to  re- 
member that  he'd  once  heard  as  a  bear  won't  touch 
a-  dead,,  man,  so  he,  poor  chap,  tried  it  on  as  a  last 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  307 

chance  for  life.  He  lay  quite  stiff  and  quiet,  and 
lucky  for  him  the  trick  succeeded.  She  loosed  her 
grip  of  him,  and  sniffed  and  sniffed  round  him,  until 
I  guess  she  thought  she  mast  have  finished  him  off. 
Then  she  went  away  with  her  cubs  and  left  him. 
My  mate  jest  managed  to  crawl  in  here  and  shut 
the  door,  and  here  I  found  him  an  hour  later,  as 
near  dead  as  any  man  I  ever  saw.  The  bear  had 
torn  him  dreadfully  and  bitten  him,  and  I  tell  you 
he  took  some  nursing  to  pull  him  through  ;  but  he 
did  live,  and  is  going  still.  However,  you  may  be 
sure  as  he  don't  scoff  and  joke  any  more  about  bears." 

"  I  should  think  not,  indeed,"  said  Jack.  "  "What 
an  escape  he  had !  Did  the  bear  come  back  again  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Joe ;  "  I  followed  her  up  care- 
fully, and  shot  her  with  that  'ere  rifle  of  mine  as  you 
see  there  in  the  corner.  But  I  didn't  fool  with  her, 
for  I've  done  more  bear-hunting  than  any  man  in 
the  States,  and  know  by  experience  you  must  be 
cautious.  Yes,  1  killed  her,  and  the  two  cubs  as 
well.  She  was  a  grizzly,  and  a  fierce  un,  too." 

"  Are  there  many  different  kinds  of  bear  on  these 
mountains  ?  "  asked  Jack,  who  was  very  interested 
in  the  subject. 

"  A  good  many,"  returned  the  hunter.  "  "We've 
got  the  black,  brown,  and  cinnamon  bears,  which  '11 
avoid  you  if  they  can  ;  and  then  we've  the  grizzlies 
and  silver-tipped  bears,  which  are  a  kind  of  grizzly. 
The  latter  ain't  quite  so  fierce  as  the  real  grizzly, 
but  ain't  pleasant  to  face  when  they're  wounded." 

Joe  went  on  to  tell  how  hunters  tracked  the 
creatures  by  the  way  they  tore  up  ant-holes  and 
rolled  over  big  stones  in  their  clumsy  way  of  walk- 
ing. They  were  often  caught  in  traps  set  for  them 
at  the  time  when  the  wild  raspberries  and  goose- 
berries were  ripe,  as  then  they  came  wandering 
down  along  the  creeks,  looking  for  the  berries  they 
liked  so  well. 


308  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

Next  morning,  before  they  started,  Joe  showed 
Jack  the  exact  spot  where  the  fight  had  taken 
place  between  the  miner  and  the  bear,  and  then 
they  put  "  Captain  "  into  the  blackboard,  and  began 
the  last  stage  of  the  ascent. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  clear  day,  and  as  they  looked 
down  the  country  lay  spread  out  below  them  like  a 
gigantic  map.  The  ranches,  creeks,  and  villages  all 
looked  so  tiny  and  scattered  to  them,  gazing  as  they 
did  over  hundreds  of  miles  of  prairie  land. 

Above  them  the  sharp  peaks  seemed  to  pierce  the 
keen  blue  sky,  and  the  snow  still  lying  on  the 
mountain  sides  was  so  dazzling  from  the  sun's  rays 
that  "  Champion  Joe "  put  on  a  pair  of  dark  blue 
"  g°goles>"  and  tied  a  piece  of  black  veiling  over 
Jack's  face,  to  protect  their  eyes  from  getting  snow- 
blind. 

Higher  and  higher  they  went  slowly  on,  and  Joe 
remarked,  "  Well,  Jack,  I  guess  we're  about  as  near 
heaven  on  earth  to-day,  in  one  way  of  speaking,  as 
you've  ever  been  in  your  life  afore,  eh  ?  Don't  it 
look  close  ?  But,  I  say,  young  un,  what's  up  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jack,  very  faintly.  "  I've 
gone  to  feel  so  queer.  I  can  hardly  breathe,  and 
my  head  aches  as  if  it  were  going  to  burst." 

"  Lie  down,  Jack,  for  a  bit,"  said  the  hunter, 
kindly.  "  It's  the  great  height  as  we're  up.  This 
air  affects  some  folks  terribly.  I've  seen  strong 
men  helpless  and  hardly  able  to  move,  lower  down 
than  we  are.  We're  close  to  the  top  now,  so  we'll 
wait  till  you  feel  a  bit  better." 

Jack  did  feel  better  after  a  short  rest,  and,  with 
Joe's  help,  managed  to  creep  slowly  on,  although  he 
felt  very  ill.  At  the  top  they  found  it  bitterly  cold, 
as  some  clouds  had  rolled  rapidly  up  in  a  few  hours 
and  obscured  the  bright  sun.  Jack  shivered  in 
spite  of  the  blanket  Joe  wrapped  him  in.  The 
descent  on  the  other  side  of  the  range  was  even. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE  309 

harder  on  the  mule  than  the  terrible  up-hill  drag, 
and  Joe  had  to  tie  the  wheels  of  the  buckboard  to 
prevent  it  running  onto  "  Captain."  The  road  was 
so  steep  and  stony,  he  could  hardly  keep  his  footing 
at  times,  and  in  one  place  there  was  nothing  but  a 
broad  ledge  cut  out  of  the  side  of  a  rock,  with  a 
natural  wall  on  one  side  and  a  terrible  precipice 
sloping  away  on  the  other. 

It  made  Jack  feel  so  giddy  looking  down  such  an 
awful  depth,  that  Joe,  seeing  how  white  he  was, 
advised  him  to  hold  on  to  the  back  of  the  buckboard 
and  keep  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  mule. 

"  Trust  yourself  to  '  Captain,'  "  he  said,  "  and  I 
promise  you  he  ain't  likely  to  go  over  that,  if  cau- 
tion is  of  any  account.  He  ain't  the  one  to  lose 
his  head  on  roads  like  this,  as  he  knows  'em  so 
well." 

Jack  followed  the  advice  given  him,  and  got  on 
much  better,  and  when  they  had  got  down  a  little 
way,  his  head  felt  less  heavy,  and  he  soon  was  all 
right  again. 

Towards  evening  they  approached  a  small  settle- 
ment at  the  foot  of  the  pass,  called  Redwood.  As 
they  drove  in,  they  found  the  people  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement.  The  Sheriff  of  the  county  had 
run  down  and  caught  a  band  of  horse-thieves  just  out- 
side the  village  a  few  hours  before.  The  Sheriff  and 
his  men  had  won  the  fight,  captured  the  thieves,  and 
secured  the  stolen  horses  in  corrals  through  the  vil- 
lage. The  place  was  almost  in  an  uproar,  and  our 
travelers  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  a  place 
where  they  could  lodge  themselves  and  their  mule 
for  the  night.  The  Sheriff  and  his  party  seemed  to 
fill  the  village,  and  some  of  the  crowd  round  the 
jail,  where  the  horse-thieves  were  imprisoned,  never 
moved  away  all  night,  fearing  the  robbers  might  try 
to  break  out  before  morning,  when  they  were  to  be 
escorted  by  a  strong  body  of  men  to  the  nearest 


310  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

town  to  await  their  trial.  Jack,  however,  was  too 
tired  to  enter  much  into  the  great  excitement  going 
on,  and  was  glad  enough,  after  some  supper,  to  wrap 
himself  up  in  his  blanket,  and  go  to  sleep  on  the 
floor  of  a  tiny  shanty  outside  the  village. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIKIE.  3H 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AT   LAST. 

THE  next  morning  Jack  was  quite  rested  and 
very  eager  to  join  Joe,  who  proposed  they  should 
go  and  see  the  s&rt  of  the  prisoners.  They  walked 
towards  the  jail,  and  arrived  there  just  as  the  party 
were  starting.  The  horse-thieves,  eight  in  number, 
were  riding  in  the  midst  of  a  band  of  well-armed 
horsemen,  who  were  ever  on  the  alert  to  detect  the 
first  attempt  to  escape  from  any  of  the  prisoners, 
who  were  all  pinioned.  They  were  a  sullen,  des- 
perate-looking set  of  men,  who  scowled  fiercely  at 
the  restless  crowd  as  they  surged  round  them, 
almost  pushing  against  the  horses  in  their  efforts  to 
see  all  they  could  of  the  far-famed,  evil  gang,  who 
at  last  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  justice.  At  a 
signal  from  the  Sheriff  the  little  band  moved  away, 
and  slowly  trotted  out  of  sight.  When  they  had 
disappeared  from  view,  every  one  followed  the 
Sheriff  (who  had  remained  behind  with  two  of  his 
men)  near  a  big  corral,  where  the  captured  horses 
were  still  standing. 

Jack  and  Joe  went  with  the  crowd  and  stood 
looking  at  the  horses,  while  the  Sheriff  began  busily 
entering  the  different  brands  marked  on  the  animals 
in  his  note-book. 

"  What's  that  for  ? "  asked  Jack. 

"  To  help  find  out  the  owners,"  returned  Joe. 
"  You  see  the  Sheriff '11  advertise  these  brands,  and 


312         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

the  colors  of  the  horses,  and  then,  folks  as  have  lost 
any  '11  come  and  identify  'em." 

Suddenly  Jack  gave  a  cry  of  delight,  and  clam- 
bering over  the  bars  of  the  corral,  rushed  into  the 
midst  of  the  loose  horses  towards  a  yellow-coated 
broncho.  He  flung  his  arms  round  the  horse's  neck 
and  fairly  hugged  it.  Then,  keeping  hold  of  the 
shaggy  mane,  he  led  the  animal  towards  the  bars, 
where  his  friend  stood  staring  in  astonishment. 

"  Joe,"  he  cried,  half  crying  with  joy,  "  here's 
'  Buckskin,'  our  old  '  Buck,'  as  I've  told  you  about." 

Every  one  looked  at  the  excited  boy,  and  the 
Sheriff  glanced  rather  suspiciously  at  him,  for, 
strange  to  say,  the  brand  on  the  yellow  broncho 
had  puzzled  him  more  than  all  the  others,  being 
quite  unknown  to  him. 

He  called  out  sharply,  "  Say  !  what  does  that  boy 
know  about  that  horse  ?  Tell  him  to  come  here." 

Jack  led  "  Buckskin  "  up  to  where  he  stood,  and 
said  quietly,  "  This  horse  belongs  to  my  dad.  Here's 
his  brand,  V.  C.,  on  his  hip,  and  he  has  an  old  scar 
that  was  done  once  when  he  was  shot  just  afore  we 
got  him." 

"  Where  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  Sheriff,  dubiously. 

"  Here  !  "  returned  Jack,  promptly,  as  he  lifted 
"  Buckskin's "  mane  and  showed  the  place  plain 
enough  where  a  bullet  had  once  passed  through  the 
neck.  "  I  could  swear  to  '  Buckskin  '  anywhere." 

"  You're  right,  my  lad,"  said  the  Sheriff,  after 
looking  carefully  at  the  scar.  "And  who's  your 
dad  ?  " 

"  George  Wilson,"  answered  Jack.  "  He  lives  on 
the  Cochetopa  Creek,  and  freights  up  and  down  the 
mountains." 

"  Does  any  one  know  George  Wilson,  of  Coche- 
topa Creek  ? "  asked  the  Sheriff,  appealing  to  the 
crowrd. 

A  man  stood  forward  and  said,  "  I  guess  I  saw 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  313 

the  man  you  want  last  week,  if  he's  an  Englishman. 
I  didn't  know  his  name,  for  he's  only  just  moved 
up  to  a  small  ranch  about  fifteen  miles  from  here. 
I  do  believe  when  I  met  him  as  he  was  drivin'  a 
sorrel  broncho,  the  same  color  as  that  one,  but  I 
never  noticed  the  brand." 

"  Joe !  Joe !  d'you  hear  that  ? "  exclaimed  Jack, 
in  his  joyful  surprise  forgetting  the  Sheriff  and 
every  one  else.  "  We're  close  to  home  after  all. 
Isn't  it  grand  ? " 

The  Sheriff  looked  puzzled  at  this  outburst,  until 
"Champion  Joe,"  who  was  well  known  to  him, 
came  forward  and  briefly  told  Jack's  story.  He 
also  testified  to  Jack's  good  character,  and  finally 
persuaded  the  officer  to  give  over  the  stolen  horse 
into  their  hands.  A  proud  boy  was  our  hero  when, 
a  few  hours  later,  he  drove  out  of  Redwood  in  Joe's 
buckboard,  having  "  Buckskin "  securely  fastened 
on  behind. 

The  weather  had  decidedly  changed  since  the  day 
before,  and  the  sky  looked  dark  and  lowering  as 
they  drove  along  the  prairie  road.  Jack,  however, 
was  in  the  wildest  spirits,  as  he  drew  so  close  to  the 
end  of  his  long  journey,  and  thought  how  soon  he 
would  see  his  dear  Father  and  Mother. 

"  "We'll  make  your  home  by  evening  if  we  have 
good  luck,"  said  Joe,  cheerfully ;  "  but  I'm  feared 
as  we're  in  for  a  snowstorm,  and  may  be  a  blizzard." 

Joe  was  right.  As  they  got  a  little  further  on 
their  way,  the  snow  began  to  fall  in  heavy  flakes, 
and  faster  and  faster  they  came  down.  Worse  still ! 
Far  away  up  in  the  mountains  above  them  they 
could  hear  a  warning  roar  that  proclaimed  the  ad- 
vent of  a  prairie  storm.  Joe  urged  "  Captain  "  on 
with  all  his  might. 

"  We're  in  for  a  blizzard,"  he  cried  ;  "  it's  coming 
on  quick,  and  '11  soon  overtake  us.  Cochetopa  Creek 
is  only  a  few  miles  ahead  of  us  now,  and  if  we  could 


314:  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

fet  that  far  we'd  find  quaking  aspens  that  would 
reak  the  worst  of  the  storm,  and  we  could  shelter 
there  till  morning." 

On  they  struggled,  but  the  cold  was  intense,  and 
long  before  they  could  reach  the  creek  the  blizzard 
struck  them  with  full  force.  The  snow  froze  as  it 
fell,  and  cat  their  faces,  while  the  icy  tempest 
whirled  up  clouds  of  these  sharp  particles,  blinding 
Joe.  He  made  Jack  get  under  the  tough  Buffalo 
robe,  but  the  fierce  cold  was  penetrating  even 
through  that.  In  a  short  time  Joe  found  they  had 
wandered  off  the  road,  and  after  driving  aimlessly 
about  in  the  storm,  trying  to  find  it  again,  he  had  at 
last  to  give  it  up  and  acknowledge  that  they  were 
lost.  It  was  an  awful  sensation,  and  Joe  was  puzzled 
how  to  proceed,  as  "  Captain  "  stood  with  his  back 
to  the  storm  and  refused  to  stir. 

The  hunter  knew  they  must  all  freeze  to  death  if 
they  sta}red  there  any  length  of  time,  and  he  deter, 
mined  to  try  the  only  expedient  left,  which  was  to 
abandon  the  buckboard  and  trust  themselves  to 
the  animals. 

With  difficulty  he  put  a  bridle  ^on  "Buckskin," 
wrho  was  trembling  with  fright  and  cold,  and,  hoist- 
ing Jack  up  on  his  back,  managed  to  tie  him  on 
with  a  bit  of  rope.  He  then  unharnessed  the  mule 
and  scrambled  on  it  himself. 

"  We  must  try  and  keep  together,  if  possible," 
said  he  ;  "  and  now,  off  we  go  !  " 

The  animals  plunged  forward  amidst  the  drifting 
snow  and  shrieking  storm,  but  in  a  few  minutes 
they  were  swept  apart,  and  Jack  missed  his  com- 
panion. He  pulled  up  and  called  in  vain  for  Joe ; 
but  the  storm  roared  round,  drowning  everything 
in  the  darkness.  At  last  Jack  felt  the  wisest  thing 
was  to  leave  himself  entirely  to  "  Buckskin,"  and  not 
even  try  to  guide  him.  The  cold  was  beginning  to 
stupefy  the  boy,  and  he  had  a  strange  feeling  of 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  315 

numbness  growing  over  him.  The  good  old  horse 
plodded  steadily  on,  while  Jack  laid  the  reins  on  his 
back,  saying  with  a  sob,  "  Go  on  '  Buck,'  I  shall  die 
soon  if  you  don't  save  me."  Suddenly  "  Buckskin  " 
stopped,  and,  although  Jack  had  just  sense  to  be 
aware  of  it,  he  was  quite  unable  to  rouse  himself 
from  the  deadly  stupor  he  had  fallen  into,  and 
without  the  rope  that  tied  him  on  "  Buckskin  "  he 
would  long  before  have  slipped  off  on  to  the  ground. 
But  help  was  at  hand.  "  Buckskin  "  had  stopped  by 
some  bars.  Like  all  prairie  horses  he  was  very 
clever,  and,  finding  his  rider  made  no  effort  to  get 
off  and  put  the  bars  down  for  him,  he  set  to  work 
to  try  and  do  it  himself.  He  got  his  head  under  the 
top  pole,  and  lifted  it  up  in  its  place  until  one  end 
fell  down.  He  was  working  at  the  second,  when  a 
dog's  bark  sounded  close  by,  and  very  soon  a  light 
appeared  in  the  doorway  of  a  small  log-house  inside 
the  bars,  as  a  man  came  out  and  looked  about. 

It  was  too  dark  for  him  to  see  the  horse  outside, 
and  Jack  was  quite  unconscious  by  this  time,  so  it 
would  have  fared  badly  with  our  friends  in  the 
storm  if  the  dog  had  not  plunged  forward  over 
the  snow  and  commenced  barking  frantically  round 
them.  This  surprised  the  man,  and,  having  got  a 
lantern,  he  came  towards  the  bars. 

"  What  is  it,  Jim  ?  Only  coyotes,  I  believe.  You 
silly  old  dog !  "  he  said  at  first,  as  the  dog  rushed 
back  to  him  ;  but  as  he  got  closer,  he  saw  the  dark 
form  of  a  horse. 

"Hello!  What  have  we  here?"  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  let  down  the  bars.  "  A  loose  horse  !  Why,  I 
declare,  it's  old  '  Buck'  back  again  !  But  what 'has 
he  got  on  his  back  ?  It  looks  like  a  child  I  " 

He  quickly  led  the  horse  to  the  door,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern  untied  the  rope,  and  carried  the 
motionless  figure  into  the  house. 

"  Here,  wife,"  he  called  out,  "  come  and  see  to 


316  A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

this  child,  while  I  take  the  horse  to  the  stable.  It's 
the  strangest  thing  I  ever  knew.  *  Buck '  gets 
stolen,  and  to-night  I  find  him  at  the  bars  in  this 
blizzard,  with  a  kid  on  his  back !  " 

A  woman  took  the  boy  and  laid  him  on  a  couch 
some  distance  from  the  fire.  She  then  removed  the 
blanket,  and  was  chafing  the  stiff  limbs  to  bring 
back  the  circulation,  when  her  husband  returned, 
having  made  "  Buckskin  "  as  comfortable  as  possi- 
ble in  his  own  stable. 

"  Look !  he's  coming  round  a  bit,"  said  the  woman, 
hopefully.  "  Pour  some  warm  coffee  between  his 
lips." 

The  man  obeyed,  and  the  liquid  seemed  to  revive 
the  unconscious  boy.  He  sighed  and  opened  his 
eyes.  He  saw  a  gentle  face  bending  over  him, 
which  was  familiar,  indeed,  to  him. 

"  Oh,  Mother  darling !  I  ain't  dead,  and  I've 
found  you  at  last ! "  was  his  joyful  cry,  and  the 
next  moment  he  was  folded  in  her  loving  arms. 

Such  a  meeting  as  this  one  between  Jack  and  his 
long-lost  parents  is  indescribable,  and  we  must  draw 
a  veil  over  the  first  few  hours  of  their  happy  re- 
union. 

"  Oh,  George,"  said  the  comforted  mother  later 
on,  when  Jack  had  quite  recovered,  "  isn't  it  won- 
derful how  it  all  happened?  To  think  that  old 
'  Buck '  should  have  brought  our  own  little  Jack 
to  our  very  door ! " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  returned  her  husband.  "  What  a 
merciful  thing  it  was  that  '  Jim  '  heard  them  at  the 
bars,  for  Jack  was  very  nearly  done  for  with  the 
awful  cold." 

Tears  of  joy  had  poured  down  the  cheeks  of  the 
parents  when  they  discovered  it  was  really  their 
darling  who  had  come  to  them  in  the  storm,  and 
they  did  not  forget  to  kneel  down  and  thank  God 
for  His  marvelous  preservation  of  their  child. 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  317 

"Mother,"  said  Jack,  "you  were  right;  you  told 
me  to  ask  God  to  take  care  of  us  until  we  met  again, 
and  He  has  done  it." 

"  Yes.  that  He  has  !  "  returned  his  mother ;  "  and 
we  have  much  to  thank  Him  for." 

"  You  stick  to  Him  right  through  your  life,  Jack, 
as  you've  begun,"  said  George  Wilson,  solemnly, 
"for  He's  the  best  guide  and  protector  any  man 
can  have." 

"  I  will,  Daddy,"  answered  the  boy,  firmly. 

Jack  was  soon  able  to  give  an  account  of  his  ad- 
venture in  the  blizzard,  and  expressed  great  anxiety 
about  the  fate  of  his  friend,  "  Champion  Joe." 

"  It's  madness  to  look  for  him  to-night,"  said 
George  Wilson,  "  but  I'll  be  out  first  thing  and  seek 
him  in  the  morning." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  them  all  when  about  day- 
break the  next  day  they  were  roused  by  a  knock  at 
the  door,  which  proved  to  be  the  hunter  himself. 
He  had  come  to  ask  for  help  in  finding  Ms  missing 
companion,  and  you  may  imagine  his  joyful  surprise, 
to  learn  that  Jack,  in  spite  of  the  storm,  had  safely 
reached  home  and  his  journey  was  over !  The  mule 
had  managed  to  struggle  to  the  creek,  where  he  and 
his  master  had  sheltered  among  the  quaking  aspens 
until  morning,  the  latter  being  in  an  agony  of  mind 
all  night  about  Jack. 

The  buckboard  was  brought  to  the  Wilsons'  house 
with  great  difficulty  during  the  day,  and  "Buck- 
skin "  and  "  Ruf us "  had  to  lend  their  services  to 
drag  it,  light  as  it  was,  through  the  terrible  snow- 
drifts. The  road  was  so  bad  "Champion  Joe"  had 
to  stay  two  or  three  days  with  Jack's  people,  but  he 
never  grudged  the  delay,  as  he  had  become  very 
fond  of  his  little  traveling  companion,  and  he  was 
delighted  to  see  the  happiness  of  the  three  who  had 
been  parted  so  long. 

Jack's  mother  had   grown   much   stronger,  and 


318         A  YANKEE  LAD'S  PLUCK. 

there  was  every  hope  of  her  perfect  recovery  after 
a  longer  residence  in  their  new  home. 

The  evening  of  the  next  day  after  his  return 
home,  Jack  was  sitting  with  the  others  round  the 
stove,  and  with  his  hand  clasped  tight  in  his 
mother's,  gave  them  an  outline  of  his  adventures 
through  which  we  have  followed  him.  They  listened 
breathlessly,  and  the  mother  grew  pale  at  the  de- 
scription of  his  desertion  and  subsequent  illness. 
What  risks  her  child  had  run  ! 

When  he  had  finished  they  were  all  silent  for  a 
short  time  ;  then  his  mother  said,  "  God  has  been 
good  to  us.  Here  have  we  been  mourning  you  as 
dead,  and  all  the  time  He  was  leading  you  to  us 
through  all  these  perils  and  dangers.  Have  you 
forgot  the  hymns  we  used  to  sing  at  Longview, 
Jack  ? " 

"  Xo,  jMother,  I've  sung  them  many  a  time.  Jeff 
and  Pedro  liked  to  hear  them  ever  so  well.  Let's 
have  some  to-night." 

"  We  will,  Jack,"  said  his  father.  "  It  would  be 
quite  like  the  old  days." 

Soon  the  log-house  resounded  with  their  voices 
as  they  sang  their  favorite  hymns.  When  they  had 
finished  up  with  the  last  lines  of 

"  And  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home," 

Jack  exclaimed,  "  Somehow  I  feel  as  if  I've  got  safe 
home  now ! " 

"  Nay,  laddie,  not  yet,"  said  his  mother,  gently. 
"  We  can  never  get  to  our  true  home  until  we  have 
passed  through  the  dark  valley  of  death.  We  are 
all  wanderers  here,  and  in  the  same  way  as  the 
thought  of  this  earthly  home  and  Dad  and  me 
cheered  you  on  through  your  journey,  so  should  the 
thought  of  our  Heavenly  home,  and  our  Father 
awaiting  us,  help  us  to  face  the  trials  and  troubles 


LEFT  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  319 

we  must  meet  all  our  lives  through.  And  now,  my 
dearie,  it's  getting  late.  Let  me  put  you  to  bed." 

Shortly  after,  with  her  loving  kiss  on  his  fore- 
head, Jack,  who  had  so  often  felt  sad  and  lonely  at 
Long  view,  fell  asleep  with  a  happy  smile  on  his 
face. 

For  the  sake  of  dead  Aunt  Sue  the  "Wilsons  never 
wrote  a  word  of  reproach  to  their  deceitful  brother- 
in-law,  who  left  Longview  very  soon  after  Jack's 
disappearance. 

Jack  had  not  seen  the  last  of  the  good  friends  he 
had  made  on  his  journey.  He  went  often  to  Swift 
Creek  Ranch,  where  he  saw  not  only  the  Stuarts 
but  also  Pedro  and  Sefior  at  times.  Steve  became 
one  of  Mr.  Stuart's  cowboys,  where  he  was  perfectly 
happy  and  gave  every  satisfaction. 

Mr.  Stuart  also  promised  Jack  that  when  he  was 
old  enough,  if  he  still  wished  it,  he  should  join  his 
band  of  cowboys,  and  with  this  promise  Jack  was 
quite  content.  About  a  year  after  Jack's  reunion 
with  his  parents  Steve,  in, one  of  the  "round-ups" 
of  cattle,  came  across  Jeff  Ralston,  who  was  thank- 
ful to  hear  that,  contrary  to  all  his  sad  anticipations, 
the  boy  had  not,  after  all,  perished  on  the  prairie. 

And  now,  safe  in  his  happy  home,  after  all  he  had 
gone  through,  we  must  say  good-by  to  little  Jack, 
leaving  him  growing  up  still  the  same  devoted  boy 
to  his  parents  as  the  little  fellow  who  so  bravely  set 
out  on  his  tremendous  journey,  determined  in  spite 
of  all  danger  and  difficulties  to  find  Mother  and 
Cochetopa  Creek ! 


THE   END. 


A,  L.  Burt's  Catalogue  of  Books  for 
Young  People  by  Popular  Writers,  52- 
58  Duane  Street,  New  York  x  x  ^ 


BOOKS  FOR  BOYS. 


Joe's  Luck:     A  Boy's  Adventures  in  California.    By 

HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.  12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00 
The  story  is  chock  f»ll  of  stirring  incidents,  while  the  amusing  situ- 
ations are  furnished  by  Joshua  Bickford,  from  Pumpkin  Hollow,  and  the 
fellow  who  modestly  styles  himself  the  "Rip-tail  Roarer,  from  Pike  Co., 
Missouri."  Mr.  Alger  never  writes  a  poor  book,  and  "Joe's  Luck"  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  his  best. 

Tom  the   Bootblack;  or,   The  Eoad  to   Success.    By 

HORATIO  ALGER.  JR.    12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

A  bright,  enterprising  lad  was  Tom  the  Bootblack.  He  was  not  at  all 
ashamed  of  his  humble  calling,  though  always  on  the  lookout  to  better 
himself.  The  lad  started  for  Cincinnati  to  look  up  his  heritage.  Mr. 
Grey,  th-?  uncle,  did  not-  hesitate  to  employ  a  ruffian  to  kill  the  lad.  The 
plan  failed,  and  Gilbert  Grey,  once  Tom  the  bootblack,  came  into  a  com- 
fortable fortune.  This  is  one  of  Mr.  Alger's  best  stories. 

Dan  the  Newsboy.    By   HORATIO   ALGER,   JR.    12mo, 

cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Dan  Mordaunt  and  his  mother  live  in  a  poor  tenement,  and  the  lad  la 
pluckily  trying  to  make  ends  meet  by  selling  papers  in  the  streets  of  New 
York.  A  little  heiress  of  six  yeai-s  is  confided  to  the  care  of  the  Mor- 
daunts.  The  child  is  kidnapped  and  Dan  tracks  the  child  to  the  house 
where  she  is  hidden,  and  rescues  her.  The  wealthy  aunt  of  the  little 
heiress  is  so  delighted  with  Dau's  courage  and  many  good  qualities 
that  she  adopts  him  as  her  heir. 

Tony  the  Hero:     A    Brave    Boy's    Adventure  with  a 

Tramp.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.    12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Tony,  a  sturdy  bright-eyed  boy  of  fourteen,  is  under  the  control  of 
Rudolph  Rugg,  a  thorough  rascal.  After  much  abuse  Tony  runs  away 
and  gets  a  job  as  stable  boy  in  a  country  hotel.  Tony  is  heir  to  a 
large  estate.  Rudolph  for  a  consideration  hunts  up  Tony  and  throws 
him  down  a  deep  well.  Of  course  Tony  escapes  from  the  fate  provided 
for  him,  and  by  a  brave  act,  a  rich  friend  secures  his  rights  and  Tony 
is  prosperous.  A  very  entertaining  book. 

The  Errand  Boy;  or,  How  Phil  Brent  Won  Success. 

By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.    12mo,  cloth  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

The  career  of  "The  Errand  Boy"  embraces  the  city  adventures  of  a 
•mart  country  lad.  Philip  was  brought  up  by  a  kind-hearted  innkeeper 
named  Brent.  The  death  of  Mrs.  Brent  paved  the  way  for  the  hero's 
subsequent  troubles.  A  retired  merchant  in  New  York  secures  him  the 
situation  of  errand  boy,  and  thereafter  stands  as  his  friend. 

Tom  Temple's  Career.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.     12mo, 

cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Tom  Temple  is  a  bright,  self-reliant  lad.  He  leaves  Plympton  village 
to  seek  work  in  New  York,  whence  he  undertakes  an  important  mission 
to  California.  Some  of  his  adventures  In  the  far  west  are  so  startling  that 
the  reader  will  scarcely  close  the  book  until  the  last  page  shall  have  been 
reached.  The  tale  is  written  in  Mr.  Alger's  most  fascinating  style. 

For  sale  by  aU  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  th9 
publisher,  A.  L.  BUKT,  52-58  Duane  Street,  New  York. 


2       A.  L.  HURT'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

BOOKS  FOR  BOYS. 

Frank  Fowler,  the  Cash  Boy.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 

12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Frank  Fowler,  a  poor  boy.  bravely  determines  to  make  a  living  for 
himself  and  his  foster-sister  Grace.  Going  to  New  York  he  obtains  a 
situation  as  cash  boy  in  a  dry  goods  store.  He  renders  a  service  to  a 
wealthy  old  gentleman  who  takes  a  fancy  to  the  lad,  and  thereafter 
helps  the  lad  to  gain  success  and  fortune. 

Tom  Thatcher's    Fortune.     By    HORATIO   ALGER,  JR. 

12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Tom  Thatcher  is  a  brave,  ambitious,  unselfish  boy.  He  supports  his 
mother  and  sister  on  meagre  wages  earned  as  a  shoe-pegger  in  John 
Simpson's  factory.  Tom  is  discharged  from  the  factory  and  starts  over- 
land for  California.  He  meets  with  many  adventures.  The  story  is  told 
in  a  way  which  has  made  Mr.  Alger's  name  a  household  word  In  so  many 
homes. 

The  Train    Boy.    By    HORATIO    ALGER,    JR.     12mo, 

cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Paul  Palmer  was  a  wide-awake  boy  of  sixteen  who  supported  his  mother 
and  sister  by  selling  books  and  papers  on  the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee* 
Railroad.  He  detects  a  young  man  in  the  act  of  picking  the  pocket  of  a 
young  lady.  In  a  railway  accident  many  passengers  are  killed,  but  Paul 
Is  fortunate  enough  to  assist  a  Chicago  merchant,  who  out  of  gratitude 
takes  him  into  his  employ.  Paul  succeeds  with  tact  and  Judgment  and 
Is  well  started  on  the  road  to  business  prominence. 

Mark  Mason's  Victory.     The  Trials  and  Triumphs  of 

a  Telegraph  Boy.    By  HORATIO  AIXJER,  JB.    12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price 

$1.00. 

Mark  Mason,  the  telegraph  boy,  was  a  sturdy,  honest  lad,  who  plucklly 
won  his  way  to  success  by  his  honest  manly  efforts  under  many  diffi- 
culties. This  story  will  please  the  very  large  class  of  boys  who  regard 
Mr.  Alger  as  a  favorite  author. 

A  Debt  of  Honor.     The  Story  of  Gerald  Lane's  Success 

in  the  Far  West.    By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR.     12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price 

$1.00. 

The  story  of  Gerald  Lane  and  the  account  of  the  many  trials  and  dis- 
appointments which  he  passed  through  before  he  attained  success,  will 
interest  all  boys  who  have  read  the  previous  stories  of  this  delightful 
author. 

Ben  Bruce.     Scenes  in  the  Life  of  a  Bowery  Newsboy. 

By  HORATIO  ALGER.  JR.    12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

Ben  Bruce  was  a  brave,  manly,  generous  boy.  The  story  of  his  efforts, 
and  many  seeming  failures  and  disappointments,  and  his  final  success,  are 
most  interesting  to  all  readers.  The  tale  is  written  in  Mr.  Alger's 
most  fascinating  style. 

The  Castaways;  or,  On  the  Florida  Eeefs.     By  JAMES 

OTIS.    12rao,  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00. 

This  tale  smacks  of  the  salt  sea.  From  the  moment  that  the  Sea 
Queen  leaves  lower  New  Yortc  bay  till  the  breeze  leaves  her  becalmed  off 
the  coast  of  Florida,  one  can  almost  hear  the  whistle  of  the  wind 
through  her  rigging,  the  creak  of  her  straining  cordage  as  she  heels  to 
the  leeward.  The  adventures  of  Ben  Clark,  the  hero  of  the  storv  and 
Jake  the  cook,  cannot  fail  to  charm  the  reader.  As  a  writer  for  young 
people  Mr.  Otis  is  a  prime  favorite. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  the 
publisher,  A,  L.  BTJRT,  52-58  Duane  Street,  Nev  York. 


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